Romeo and Romeo
by Buttons14
Summary: SLASH! obviously Nothing brings two boys together like William Shakespeare. rated for language andas said beforeslashModernday fic.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) please R&R!  
  
Romeo and Romeo  
  
(Wednesday)  
  
~General PoV~  
  
"She speaks: O! Speak again, bright angel; for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head, as is a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wond'ring eyes of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy pacing clouds, and sails upon the bosom of the air!"  
  
"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or if thou will—"  
  
"Specs, it says 'wilt'."  
  
"I can't do this, Dutchy, this isn't fair!"  
  
Dutchy shot Specs a hilariously stern look. "You promised you'd help me practice if I got the part."  
  
"I didn't think I'd have to be Juliet!" Specs lowered his voice to a whisper, "Dutchy, Juliet is a girl."  
  
Dutchy rolled his eyes, "no, you think? In Shakespeare's times there were no women actors."  
  
"She's a thirteen year old girl."  
  
"Just read the line macho man."  
  
"Fine," Specs grumbled a bit, "or if thou wilt not be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."  
  
"Shall I hear more or shall I speak this?"  
  
Specs could feel himself blush. Two Italian kids (acted out by Dutchy and he) were courting. He thought of this and reddened further.  
  
Dutchy snapped his fingers. "Hello? Specs, are you with me?"  
  
Specs blinked and yawned. Dutchy clapped his book shut.  
  
"Huh?" Specs blinked some more.  
  
"Specs go home."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You're not focused. This doesn't do me any good if you can't pay attention."  
  
Dutchy threw Specs his jacket.  
  
"Dutchy I......... I'm sorry.........?"  
  
Dutchy glared out the window.  
  
Specs put his jacket on, "call me.........OK?"  
  
~Dutchy's PoV~  
  
I didn't mean to be so nasty to Specs. Honest I didn't, he's just so nervous and it makes me nervous. When I'm nervous I can't act. I wonder about what it would be like if Specs had to do some sort of a presentation in front of the whole school  
  
So I called Mush—who is playing Escalus, the prince of Verona—for help. His best friend Blink picked up.  
  
"Hullo?"  
  
"Uh.........hi, is..........uh.........Scott there?"  
  
I could hear the phone being lowered.  
  
"Mush! PHONE!"  
  
And seconds later his voice came through.  
  
"Yep?"  
  
"Hi, Mush? It's John, from the play."  
  
"Oh! Hi, Dutchy, right?"  
  
"Uh huh, anyways, I was wondering, do you think we could get together to practise lines or something?"  
  
He hesitated and I felt so stupid just then.  
  
"Sure come over now. Blink is running over his lines as Gregory. We'll practise together."  
  
We hung up and I breathed a sigh of relief. Practice, here I come.........  
  
~Mush's PoV~  
  
Blink sat down on the couch. He stared at me.  
  
"What?"  
  
"So.........when's this Romeo kid coming?"  
  
"Soon," I flipped through the script, trying not to meet Blink's eye.  
  
He winked at me, "should I leave you alone with Romeo? Fair, sweet Romeo?"  
  
I threw a throw pillow at him, that's what they're for aren't they?  
  
"Stop winking at me."  
  
"I wasn't winking........."  
  
I never could tell that when it comes to Blink. His eye patch totally obscures the view of his right eye. Everyone thinks he lost it in some freak car crash or at birth. Only his family and I know that it's fake. Not even my parents know that Blink wears the patch for fun. He loves seeing peoples' expressions when they notice the patch. He cracks up every time.  
  
"Whatever, blinking, winking, it's all the same."  
  
Blink shrugged and returned to his script. "Do you quarrel sir?"  
  
I grinned, "quarrel sir! No sir!"  
  
He didn't jump in right away; I could see him rereading the script. "Since when is biting your thumb offensive?"  
  
He bit his thumb at me.  
  
I frowned, confused, and bit my thumb back at him.  
  
The doorbell rang; we must've looked pretty stupid biting our thumbs when we answered it.  
  
~Jack's PoV~  
  
"Jack Kelly-Sullivan!"  
  
I flinched and turned.  
  
"Yes Miss Larkson?" I asked in mock sweetness.  
  
"Don't you 'Yes Miss Larkson' me boy. Hurry up! These sets won't paint themselves!"  
  
For a minute I considered pulling a Tom Sawyer and tricking some poor schmoe into painting the sets for me.........but then I saw her glare more openly and thought better of it.  
  
Today was girls practice. Miss Larkson had tried to have co-ed practices so everyone would learn their lines together but we weren't.........mature enough for that. To put it shortly, Piper had a can of shaving cream and shaving cream and Skittery don't mix well.  
  
"Psst! Cowboy!" Something narrowly missed my right ear.  
  
"Screw off Oscar."  
  
It flew a little closer this time.  
  
"And you Morris."  
  
Splat! A giant spitball hit me in the back of the head.  
  
"Stop getting stuff all over the sets." I still didn't turn.  
  
The Delancys were standing on either side of me.  
  
"Hello Art-Boy! Drawing some pretty pictures for your mummy?"  
  
Oscar grinned at his 'witty' comment and Morris just laughed stupidly and cracked his knuckles.  
  
"Shut-up about my mother," I hissed through my teeth, I still hadn't looked at them but I could feel Oscar breathing down my neck. I crossed my fingers and prayed that Miss Larkson would call the stupid techies to do something for once. She didn't.  
  
"Why Cowboy? Did I strike a heartstring?" Oscar smirked, "go home to your daddy reject." He kicked the paint can roughly, slopping the paint to the floor. Morris giggled triumphantly and they stalked away.  
  
"Jack Kelly-Sullivan! What are you doing? Spilling perfectly good paint! You clumsy foolish boy."  
  
Ah yes, welcome to the glamorous life of Jack F. Kelly.  
  
~David's PoV~  
  
"Jack Kelly-Sullivan! What are you doing? Spilling perfectly good paint! You clumsy foolish boy!"  
  
I tied the rope from the overhead sandbags. I turned to see Miss Larkson telling off Jack. Quite a lot of snickering was coming from behind the curtains. I pulled the curtain up in one swift movement. Behind them stood a giggling pair of Delancys.  
  
"Lower the curtain Jacobs........." warned Oscar menacingly.  
  
I cleared my throat, "going to help Jack with the paint?" My voice didn't falter, making me sound a lot braver that I really was.  
  
Oscar scoffed at the suggestion, "the freak can take care of himself."  
  
My jaw twitched, "he's not a freak. Go help him."  
  
"Gonna make us?" Morris advanced on me, cracking his knuckles more audibly. So I punched him. Honest, I didn't mean to be such an ass, I'm never like that, but they had it coming.  
  
Oscar and Morris slinked away, Morris clutching his stomach.  
  
From behind me I could hear Oscar reluctantly offering to help him clean up. I smiled and went back to raising the sandbags.  
  
Someone tapped my shoulder violently and I turned. I saw Jack and fought to hide my grin.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Listen up David," he prodded my shoulder, "I don't need you to be standing up for me! I can take care of myself."  
  
'I just—"I could feel a lump in my throat.  
  
"Leave me alone David! Just stay to your stupid sandbag business and keep your nose out of mine."  
  
He stalked back to his sets.  
  
Huh?  
  
~Bumlets' PoV~  
  
"A crutch, a crutch! Why call you for a sword?"  
  
I sighed, "my sword I say! Old Montague is come, and flourishes his blade in spite of me."  
  
I changed my voice, slightly higher and less monotone, "Thou villain Capulet! Hold me not; let me go."  
  
Rain bubbled over, "Thou shall not stir one foot to seek a foe."  
  
She grinned widely.  
  
"Blah, blah, blah, extremely long prince's line........."  
  
Piper shook up her shaving cream canister. "A little more expression Bumlets," she warned.  
  
I snorted, "why? It's not like I'm actually in this stupid play."  
  
I swear, all five of them gasped simultaneously.  
  
"It is not a stupid play!" Twitch's fingers tightened around her script.  
  
I laughed. Piper shook her shaving cream more vigorously.  
  
"And why do you have that thing anyways? It's too creepy."  
  
Piper sniffed and lowered the canister to the floor.  
  
Twitch, Rain, Piper, and March glared at me. Spring gazed at her feet.  
  
Ah, can you not feel the tension in the air?  
  
"Yo! Juliet!"  
  
Spring looked up.  
  
"Wanna skip forward to your lines?"  
  
She grinned and flipped through the script.  
  
"O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo! Deny thy father, and refuse thy name; or, if thou not, be but sworn my love, and I'll no longer be a Capulet."  
  
*  
  
What seemed like five hours later Miss Larkson came into the room to find Spring and I running over Juliet's lines and the other four sitting in a circle braiding each others hair.  
  
"You can go home now Mr Messier. Next time think twice before pulling the fire alarm outside the change rooms."  
  
I shrugged and left without answering.  
  
Very happily I spotted Racetrack's beat-up car in the school parking lot.  
  
"Hey Race!"  
  
"Out of prison?"  
  
I opened the door and got in the front seat.  
  
"You know, the usual, 'don't pull the fire alarm', 'think twice before you do that again'. The same old drill."  
  
Race laughed and pulled out of the school.  
  
"Where are we going?" I retied my bandanna; they wouldn't let me wear it in school. (a/n: think Dominic Lucerio in the Newsie DVD's extra credits)  
  
Race shrugged, "wanna catch a bite?"  
  
I nodded vigorously, suddenly reminded of my hunger.  
  
"Bums, you've gotta stop gettin' caught doin' stuff like that. Learn to be more sneaky, stealth is the name of the game."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Sorry, not everyone has your stealth."  
  
Race laughed again and pulled onto the highway. He lit up a cigar, no doubt stolen from his father's stash, and took a puff.  
  
"Jesus Christ Racetrack, put down a window." I coughed, waving the smoke away.  
  
He rolled down the window and turned up the music. For a while we drove in silence, listening to the blaring radio.  
  
We pulled up to a rundown old diner.  
  
Sitting outside was Snoddy.  
  
A/n—that will probably be the longest chapter of all. It was just an intro, the rest will be short an' sweet. If your favourite newsie wasn't in this he will be in the nest few chapters. Promise. 


	2. Varsity Jackets, Shaving Cream, and Trag...

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Almatari-of-Arta—HEY!!! For your information, Buttons.........erm.........I love Shakespeare.  
  
SpotLover421—I take it you love Spot? (ingenious me) I predict he'll be in the third or fourth chapter. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
(Still Wednesday)  
  
~Specs' PoV~  
  
I took the bus home after leaving Dutchy's house. I knew he wouldn't call me like I'd asked and that bothered me. I usually wouldn't care, but lately we've been drifting apart.  
  
I don't think that anyone at school even knows we're friends. Dutchy's been into drama and theatre for a while, and if there's one thing I can't stand it's public speaking. I made the swim team last year and this year I made varsity. The cheerleaders saw the jacket and gravitated over. So I went on a few dates and now I'm 'the man' even though I never asked or even tried to be popular; I was content being the swim nerd.  
  
Ever since people got the impression I was cool, Dutchy started to move away. I don't think he's really for all that popularity stuff. I think he only likes to be in the spotlight if it's on stage, but I don't know.  
  
My girlfriend is a cheerleader who is also in the play. She's playing Juliet to Dutchy's Romeo; her name is Spring. I guess that's why I don't mind that she's going to be professing her love for Romeo because Romeo is my best friend.  
  
Honestly, I don't feel worried at all for Spring.........Dutchy's a great actor. I'd never tell him this, but my skin crawled when he read his part today. Of course, it was just William Shakespeare talking.  
  
~Skittery's PoV~  
  
I think I'm allergic to shaving cream. At least, Piper's shaving cream.  
  
I'm lying in bed, going over my script, trying to ignore the itching and throbbing coming from my face. My mom thinks it's a rash. I think Piper is as good as dead.  
  
I'm playing Friar John, which means I try marry Romeo and Juliet and try to stop them from killing themselves. Apparently I don't succeed.  
  
Dutchy is playing Romeo, Spring is playing Juliet, and Piper is playing Juliet's nurse. Dutchy is pretty nice, or maybe he's just a really good actor, but he'd have to be to have gotten the part of Romeo.  
  
Secretly, I only joined the play to meet people. I'm kind of a loner and I just switched schools this year. I didn't have many friends to begin with though.  
  
I do have a few friends now: I walk to school every morning with the kid next door, Eric Thornhill or Crutchy. He's really nice and is always happy. I mean it, always. But not this morning and I'm kind of afraid it's my fault. It went something like this:  
  
"Hey Crutchy!"  
  
"Hey Skitts, bye Uncle Kloppman," he yelled inside before shutting the door after him.  
  
"Crutchy? Why do you live with your uncle? Are your parents travelling?" I live a very sheltered life so I wasn't ready for the answer.........  
  
"They're dead."  
  
Wow! Shocker! And the plot thickens........."what happened?"  
  
His smile was beginning to falter, "I don't really want to talk about it Skitts. Can we drop it?"  
  
"But.........but how old were you? How'd it happen? How'd you find out? Why'd they choose to let you live with your uncle?"  
  
"Skittery!" uh oh, Crutchy was fuming, "just shut the fuck up! I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"Are you sure? I'd always be there if you want to talk."  
  
"Jesus, SHUT UP! You don't know what I went through, just leave it and me alone."  
  
"Crutchy!" I called after him but he can move pretty quickly for a guy with a crutch.  
  
So I guess I don't have any friends at all, I totally blew it with Crutchy.  
  
Maybe I should keep at it, maybe he just needs someone to listen to his problems.  
  
A/n: ah yes. The problems of poor, poor Crutchy. His parents are a) really dead b) MIA (Missing In Action for all the ingrates out there) or c)just neglectful and horrible, horrible parents. 


	3. Poor Bumlets Poor Crutchy

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Almatari_of_Arda: that's my job. Make people have sympathy for Crutchy. Please don't hate me for it, it's a gift!  
  
(Still Wednesday)  
  
~Racetrack's PoV~  
  
Bumlets and I got out of the car and I waved to Snoddy. I saw Bumlets' shoulders tense; I knew how he felt about Snoddy. Snoddy knew how Bumlets felt about Snoddy.  
  
"Hey Snoddy." I greeted him through a cloud of smoke. Filthy habit, I know, but they're very addictive. I just hope my dad doesn't find out I took one, he'll have my head on a stake.  
  
"What's up Higgins?" Snoddy flicked his lighter open and shut, like Pyro in X-Men, or that evil Digimon guy in Digimon. The one with the juggarnaught or whatever. "Bumlets?" he said with a sneer.  
  
"I dun no, just a little hungry. Coming in for a good home cooked meal."  
  
Snoddy laughed. Bumlets hadn't yet returned his greeting.  
  
I pushed my way through the front door with Bumlets in tow. Behind the gritty counter was Snoddy's mom.  
  
"Hi Mrs Martin." I sat down on a stool.  
  
"Anthony!" she shrilled, grinning and lumbering over, "what can I get for you?"  
  
I pretended that I didn't notice her ignore Bumlets.  
  
"I'll have a burger and a chocolate milkshake, extra whipped cream."  
  
She turned to go.  
  
"What do you want Bumlets?" I asked him, hiding my grin as she paused reluctantly to take his order.  
  
"Onion rings and a Coke please," he asked sheepishly and I really wanted to yell at him to stand up for himself, he must get tired of getting pushed around.  
  
Mrs Martin wrote down his order and hobbled to the kitchen. Bumlets and I were in the diner.  
  
"Are you OK Bums?"  
  
He shrugged and looked away.  
  
"Are you letting Miss Larkson get to you? You're not thinking of talking it easy are you?"  
  
Bumlets shook his head meekly.  
  
I honestly don't know what's wrong with Bumlets today. He even looks pathetic; he's just all sad looking and is scribbling on his napkin. In fact, I think his bandanna is on inside out. How do you put on a bandanna inside out?  
  
Mrs Martin came back and set my food down.  
  
"Anthony," she smiled affectionately, "put out that cigar. I don't want you catching something. That smoking causes all sorts of problems." She grabbed me cigar and stubbed it out in a nearby ashtray. I bit my tongue to stop myself from reminding her that Snoddy smoked a pack a day.  
  
"Here." She thrust Bumlets' onion rings down in front of him. He lowered his head and nibbled at one. She turned a corner and I produced another cigar.  
  
"Why do you let her treat her like that Bums?" I asked, holding the cigar into place with my teeth.  
  
He shrugged. Bumlets is doing that a lot lately.  
  
"What's wrong?" I hated this. We were sharing out feelings. I shivered slightly.  
  
"Race?" Bumlets looked up at me, "do you know who Spring is?"  
  
~Crutchy's PoV~  
  
My next-door neighbour, William 'Skittery' Jones is weirded out by me. I don't know how it never came around before that I didn't have any parents, but I never told him. So I told him they were dead. Which is only half true, they're dead to me. Don't get me wrong; I love my uncle Kloppman.........like a kid loves his uncle, his favourite uncle, but his uncle nonetheless. My parents ran off to 'travel the world' for a while. They left me with my mom's brother—Uncle Kloppman—while they were gone. They never came back.  
  
I don't think I've ever told anyone about this before so I don't know why Skittery thinks I'd tell him. I've had some good friends, better than Skittery, who I only see on the way to school every morning. I've never been to his house and I'm in none of his classes. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice enough guy, but he couldn't understand what it's like to have your parents abandon you. He was shocked when I told him they were dead, like he expected they couldn't be because people have an expirery-date or something. Skittery is too innocent, not at all jaded.  
  
All I'm sure of is that I wouldn't want him to know about poor little abandoned Crutchy. Because that's what I am: poor, little and abandoned.  
  
A/n: uh oh, I have to stop doing this! I can't keep ending all chapters with a poor angsty Crutchy (. AAAAHHH! Does anyone else's computer do that? Turn a : and a ( into an actual sad face? On Word? I knew it happened, I just never asked before. It's a little weird. 


	4. Meanings of Dreams

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
SpotLover421- Bums and Snoddy eh? A lovers quarrel perhaps? Just joking. I'll work out why soon. And Crutchy cursed. The most unlikely people swear in my story. AND I thought it better his uncle than his grandfather.  
  
Almatari_of_Arda- homework? *pfft* I'm uber-organized.  
  
Trinity-Matrix-13-funny? 'S not supposed to be funny.........  
  
(Thursday)  
  
~Specs' PoV~  
  
My sister keeps a dream diary. When we were younger Dutchy and I would sneak into her room and read it. I looked something like this:  
  
April 30th, 1996-- last night I had a dream about riding a unicorn over a rainbow and than the unicorn turned into a griffin and the rainbow turned into a snake. Then it ate me. Maybe this means I will eat snake.........Or a snake will eat me.  
  
They were pretty much all like that. But as she got older they got more personal so we stopped reading them.  
  
I was thinking about this because I had a weird dream about Dutchy, and I was wondering how an entry in my dream diary would look like. Not that I have one, but if I did it would look something like this:  
  
'Thursday—last night I had a dream where someone calling to me awaked me from my sleep. It seemed like something out of Romeo and Juliet except I realized that I was Juliet and that doesn't seem right. So I went out onto my balcony (what balcony? I don't have one in real life) and standing below, reciting Shakespeare, was Dutchy. The way he spoke made my skin crawl, much like it did when we were rehearsing yesterday. And he continued like this for some time until I cut him off saying: 'What are you doing here?' He answered me with a: 'I have come to see you, Romeo my love.' And it kept going like this for a while. Why wasn't the dream about me serenading Spring or something like that? Maybe this means that I am undergoing mass changes in my life. That's what all the experts say when they don't know the real answer.'  
  
And so, that's what my dream diary would look like, if I kept one. Seeing as I don't, hopefully no one will ever know about learn about this dream, they might think the wrong thing.  
  
A/n: shortest chapter EVER!!! But, in my defence, it was meaningful so it doesn't matter how short it is. 


	5. Spring

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
No reviews? *sniffle* shows how loved I am.........  
  
(Still Thursday)  
  
~Skittery's PoV~  
  
I haven't seen Crutchy all day. He left early for school this morning and I didn't see him in the halls. Maybe he's skipped school, but then again I don't usually see him that often.  
  
On the bright side I ate lunch with new people today. This could be the road to a great friendship. Here's what happened:  
  
I brought my lunch and sat down at a table with a guy wearing a purple shirt, red suspenders and very nerdy looking drown tweed pants. He's the kind of guy whose heads people flush down the toilet except he carried himself with a rare confidence, it practically radiated from him.  
  
"Can I sit here?" I asked him.  
  
He scoffs at the suggestion, "are you joking? Surely you don't expect me to be seen with the likes of you."  
  
I quite believed him because he was a very good actor and said this like he hated me with every fibre of his being. So I picked up my tray and turned to go.  
  
He called after me, "I was just joking, come sit down."  
  
So I did and I introduced myself, "William Jones."  
  
"Simon Conlon, but my friends call me Spot," he surveyed me for a second, "do you have a nickname William?"  
  
I told him people called me Skittery just as two others arrived. One with a tray full of pie and one was wearing suspenders similar to Spots'.  
  
They introduced themselves as Ben or 'Boots' and I forget the other guy's name, but I like to call him 'Pie Eater'.  
  
Like I said, the road to a great friendship. I just hope I can remember their names by tomorrow, I've already forgotten one of them.  
  
~Bumlets' PoV~  
  
The weirdest thing happened today, a cheerleader said hello to me in the hallway. And it wasn't just any cheerleader; she has a boyfriend on varsity. If you haven't guessed yet it was Juliet. Well, Spring.  
  
She's OK I guess, and not just because she said hello to me. Except now Race knows about her and he thinks I'm pathetic for even trying.  
  
I'm not just bringing this up because 'yay! A popular kid talked to me!' but because that never happened before. They never even talk to me in terms of yelling rude comments after me in the hall. The football team (who is God) just looks at me like I'm some sort of scum on the bottom of their shoe. That's 'cause I'm a 'badass rocker' who likes Cradle of Filth and Metallica. And I only really like them because Race wouldn't shut up about them so I bought a CD. They're pretty good, and I really like Cradle of Filth's lyrics, they're very poetic and I read somewhere that Dani Filth has two degrees in English Literature. And a daughter.  
  
But I saw Spring arguing with a guy in a varsity jacket and glasses and a funny hat. I think he's her boyfriend and he just yelled louder when he saw me.  
  
Sometimes I wonder why she likes Funny-Hat guy.........  
  
~Specs' PoV~  
  
Spring broke up with me. Snitch, from swim team, says we have to go out and 'cruise for girls'. It was quite funny that he said this because if he ever did go out and 'cruise for girls' it mustn't have worked because I'm pretty sure Snitch has never had a girlfriend. Maybe it's because he has to bring his little brother with him everywhere.  
  
Surprisingly I don't mind so much that Spring broke up with me, but now she's eyeing some badass rocker and—I don't mean to sound stuck-up—it feels like she's replacing me.  
  
I really liked Spring, but maybe not as a girlfriend, maybe just as security, which I know sounds cocky, but I really think that's what it is.  
  
I don't like the idea of being replaced.  
  
Maybe this is what my dream meant, Spring wasn't in it because I really don't like her, and maybe this means Dutchy and I will get closer as friends or something.  
  
A/n: and it's all coming together, muah ha ha!!! But don't expect anything too soon. I need to lure in your interest before Specs and Dutchy love each other. As anything more than friends. Not that it will definitely happen......... 


	6. Vengeance

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
SpotLover421-ah yes, the ultimate couple that is Specs and Dutchy. It'll be a few chapters still.  
  
Almatari_of_Arda- uh.........thanks about the character development. Skitts is like you? I wouldn't think so, but whatever. And I don't know what Specs was wearing.  
  
(Still Thursday)  
  
~David's PoV~  
  
"Hwah!" thwack, thwack, "take that villain!" thwack, thwack, "vengeance!" thwack, thwack.  
  
"Les, do you know what 'vengeance' means?"  
  
"No," his head drooped a little. Thwack, thwack, with less enthusiasm this time.  
  
"Stop hitting me Les."  
  
I took his wooden sword and held it tightly. Les tugged and pulled at it but my grip remained solid.  
  
"Mmoooooommmmmmm! David stole my sword! Mmoooooommmmmmm! He won't give it back! Mmoooooommmmmmm!" Cue Les sucking up.  
  
"Shut up Les." I shoved a pillow into his face to stifle the noise. He struggled and furled, kicking me repeatedly in the shin. His tiny fist collided with my stomach.  
  
"OH MY GOD DAVEY!!! GET OFF HIM!!!" Sarah screamed, pulling me backward around the neck.  
  
I gave up and pulled the pillow odd his face. Les lay on the floor, very red in the face and panting. He flattened his hair down and pouted innocently at Sarah.  
  
"I didn't do anything Sarah," he blinked meekly.  
  
"Awww, it's OK Les." Sarah pulled Les into a hug. I turned the volume up.  
  
Les wrestled himself out of her grip and dragged herself out of the room.  
  
Sarah smacked me in the arm. "Why are you always so mean to him? You're such a jerk sometimes Davey."  
  
I shrugged and squinted at the TV. "OK"  
  
She let out an aggravated cry and stormed towards the door. She grabbed her jacket and her keys.  
  
Yeah, that's smart. If your two younger brothers just tried to kill each other get up and leave. Oh joy, that's the brightest thing I've ever heard of.  
  
"Where are you going?" I knew I was getting on her nerves. I was loving this.  
  
"I'm meeting Jack." I could hear the annoyance in her voice.  
  
"Oh." Honestly, I had noting to say to that.  
  
I guess I forgot to mention that my sister is dating Jack. I don't know what he sees in her, she's bossy, snobby, grumpy and.........uh.........bossy. Jack is really deep, I've seen it; it's like he's waiting for something really significant to happen to his life.  
  
What do you do when you're in love with your sister's boyfriend?  
  
A/n: love-struck David. Didn't see that one coming did you? If you did, you'll never guess what happens next.........unless you're SparkS.........or psychic. Otherwise you'll have no idea. Curious? Good! Keep reading. And reviewing. 


	7. College Friends and Rehab

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) please R&R!  
  
A/n: before posting this chapter my mom, sister and I were eating lunch and my mom said 'who asked you?' That started my sister and I on singing Carryin' the Banner and I was still singing it until a minute ago when the song ended. My mom just rolled her eyes and muttered something along the lines of 'Newsies' under her breath.  
  
Then Alex made me go for a run.  
  
Alex- no I didn't.  
  
Buttons- yes, yes you did. After tennis and everything. Stupid active you.  
  
Alex- :P  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Jacky Higgins- yay! A new reviewer! I love Newsies and Shakespeare (obviously). But my favourite Shakespeare play if The Taming of the Shrew. Did you know that people have assumptions that Shakespeare was gay? Well, bisexual. Read Sonnet 20.  
  
Almatari_of_Adra- stop pretending to be psychic! You only know because you peeked!  
  
(Still Thursday)  
  
~Racetrack's PoV~  
  
"Hello?" I dropped my bag to the marble floor. "Mom?" I shut the French doors behind me.  
  
"I'm in the kitchen honey!"  
  
I flinched, we must have company: she never calls me 'honey' otherwise.  
  
Sitting at the kitchen table was my mom, another very Italian looking woman, and a kid who looked about my age. They were drinking tea and eating little sandwiches. I felt like yelling 'TEA TIME!'  
  
"Anthony," her smile wavered when she saw my ripped jeans and un-tucked band t-shirt, "this is Maria Tadesco. She's my best friend from collage."  
  
What's this? My mom had friends? My mom went to collage?  
  
'And this is her son, Vincent."  
  
The kid looked up at me, all curly-haired, wearing a button-up shirt like a big boy.  
  
"Oh. Hi." Smooth move Race.  
  
'So, Anthony, your mother tells me you're seventeen! Vincent is seventeen!" Wow, this woman his painted-on eyebrows. "He'll be going to your school, maybe you could show him around, be his friend........." No-Eyebrow Woman speaks!  
  
"Uh, sure, that sounds good. I'd be happy to show Vincent around."  
  
"How about you show him your room sweetie. Let Maria and I talk about grown- up stuff."  
  
"OK." Now this was demeaning, grown-up stuff? I'm seventeen for Christ's sake. "Follow me."  
  
He stood up slowly and followed me up the stairs.  
  
"You like Metallica?" He eyed my t-shirt.  
  
Flip: defensive mode ACTIVATE! "Yeah, so?"  
  
He grinned, "Do you own St Anger? I love that album!"  
  
I opened the door to my room, a shrine to all that is heavy metal.  
  
"Oh." He spotted the multiple Metallica posters. "I guess you do."  
  
"Vincent," I stressed his name, "no offence, but do you have a nickname or anything? Vincent is so.........uptight."  
  
He laughed, "My friends called me 'Itey'."  
  
I looked him over; he really did look very Italian. "That's.........original. I'm Racetrack."  
  
He smiled, "you don't have to show me around school tomorrow if you don't want. I can make due."  
  
"It's no problem. Just promise me one thing?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"You won't wear a button-up shirt."  
  
"Done."  
  
~Crutchy's PoV~  
  
You don't know how hard it is to avoid Skittery. I swear the guy's got radar or something.  
  
I can't tell you how many people I've bumped into or jostled to get away from him. It's just that he keeps asking questions. 'Where are they buried? How old were they? How old were you?' etc, etc. The kid's like the friggin Energizer Bunny. He keeps going, and going, and going.  
  
I'm not a hostile person by nature but I really wanted to slap him when he asked about my parents. 'It's none of your fucking business Skittery!' you think that after 15 years without them I'd have made up a visible story to how they died and all, I guess I never got around to it.  
  
If you did the math you'd know that they left when I was two and I probably can't remember them. And I can't. So I don't really miss my parents but I do miss the idea of parents.  
  
I've never seen pictures of them either. I don't know where they're from, where they met, how old they were, when they got married, where I was born, I could have been born out of wedlock and I don't even know about it! Uncle Kloppman has stripped the house of anything parent-related. It's like living in rehab. I'm a friggin rehab kid.  
  
Hmmm.........here's the new and official story, Uncle Kloppman's is a low- security rehab centre for kids whose parents have driven them to the brink of insanity.  
  
His current patient is me.  
  
A/n: that has to be my favourite chapter so far. Mostly because of my Itey. I love Itey ^^. Keep R&Ring please. I get very happy when people review. Happy Easter Vacation! 


	8. Momma's Boy

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Almatari_of_Arda- thanks, and you're a sneaky one! That's bad! Bad Almatari!  
  
(Still Thursday)  
  
~Dutchy's PoV~  
  
For the first time in what seems like fifty years Specs called me after school.  
  
"Spring broke up with me," he said.  
  
'Oh," I said.  
  
Then he told me about how she was eyeing this guy who wears Cradle of Filth t-shirts all the time. I told him I didn't care.  
  
Then he asked me about what happens in the end of Romeo and Juliet. I asked him if he was joking. When he said he wasn't I said:  
  
"Romeo dies."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"And then Juliet dies."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"And then the feuding between the Montagues and the Capulets ends."  
  
"They both die?"  
  
"Yes Specs, they both die."  
  
"That's not a very romantic story."  
  
"That's because it's a tragedy."  
  
He didn't say anything after that so I hung up.  
  
I wonder why he called just to tell me his stupid girlfriend dumped his stupid ass. I wonder why I was so happy that he called. I wonder why I'm so happy he's single again. I can't be gay: it's Romeo and Juliet. Not Romeo and Romeo.  
  
Play practice tomorrow will sure be uncomfortable.  
  
~Spot's PoV~  
  
New Kid sat with us at lunch today. It was hilarious: he almost left. He called Garret 'Pie Eater' and I can see why. I like that name, it suits Garret pretty well, he's always got a slice of pie, even when the cafeteria isn't serving it. I don't know where he gets the pie from sometimes.  
  
The kid's name is William or Skittery. He was really nervous and I haven't ever seen him before. I think he's a bit of a loner. Looks like Spot Conlon has to take another reject under his wing and teach him how to fly. I'm known all over school for that, I must have helped over twenty guys get back on their feet and only Boots and 'Pie Eater' have stayed my friends. People in high school are so unclear they don't know what they want; only what other people want of them.  
  
Personally, I know what, in fact, I'm the most confidant person I know. I've got two great friends, an 85% average, steady girlfriend, stable home life, but not necessarily a perfect life. My father is dead; he committed suicide three years ago. Since then my mom has got a new, better job, and we got a new, better house, and I moved to a new, better school. There have been a lot of 'new and betters'. I think that some people think that my mom is depressed, or at least that she should be. They think that she should be at home popping anti-depressants and crying to her shrink, but she's not like that, my mother is a strong woman.  
  
I know I must seem like a 'momma's boy' and I guess that's because I am. All I have is her and so far that's all I've needed.  
  
A/n: Spot loves his mommy. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I love my mommy. I had to include that, it made Spot's character pull together. Sorry all fans who love that Spot is an independent ass-kicker. If anyone sees him like that at all. 


	9. Korn

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
SpotLover421-thanks for catching up! I love how you end your reviews 'onto the next chappie!' 'Tis funny. And Dutchy does belong with Specs! They have to be together!  
  
A/n: you have no ides how long it took me to type that. My hands are NUMB!!! Alex made me go to practice! Outside!  
  
Alex: no I didn't!  
  
Buttons: yes you did. And I was freezing!  
  
Alex: suck it up :P  
  
(Friday)  
  
~Kid Blink's PoV~  
  
I've got a tan-line around where my eye-patch is. I know because I take my patch off every night before I go to bed and when I shower. I don't think I could go without wearing my eye-patch anymore, I've been wearing it for so long that one of my eyes is smaller than the other and it crusts together sometimes.  
  
An advantage to having an eye-patch is that I'm exempt from some PhysEd units including swimming. The teachers think that the high chlorine level will be bad for my wound or something. I don't mind, I never liked swimming much anyways.  
  
As it is right now my best friend is Mush. I even tried out for the play because he did and I surprisingly got the part of Gregory. I was never that good of an actor to begin with but I guess I was better than someone. I thought Mush would get the part of Romeo for sure but he didn't, that 'Dutchy' kid did. Admittedly he was a pretty good actor when he rehearsed with us the other day.  
  
My sister flushed my script down the toilet and my brother blocked the bathroom door while she did so. I think the whole world is out to get me, but then again, they're six and nine. Maybe all siblings are like that, thankfully I only have two.  
  
I still don't understand what's so offensive about biting your thumb, but my English teacher says it was a way to directly offend someone back then, kind of like flipping someone the bird, only worse. I guess Mush and I shouldn't have bitten our thumbs at Dutchy like that.  
  
~Itey's PoV~  
  
I kept my end of the bargain; I'm not wearing a button-up shirt. I'm wearing a Korn shirt (the 'K' is backwards).  
  
Race picked me up in his old beat-up car. My mom gave his mom our address. I ran outside at the honking of the horn and got in the backseat.  
  
'Who's Korn?" was the first thing he asked me.  
  
'A band. From Canada."  
  
"Oh." Race looked confused, "uh, yeah, Itey this is Bumlets, Bumlets, Itey." He gestured towards the kid in the front seat."  
  
"Hullo," Bumlets surveyed me, pulling his headphones down. I could hear tinny music blasting from them.  
  
"What are you listening to?" he was still surveying me; it was kinda scary.  
  
He blinked a few times and then looked at his Discman as though he'd forgotten he wore it, 'Children of Bodom."  
  
I had never heard of them, "really? I love them."  
  
Bumlets gave me a half smile and put his headphones back on. "Where are you from Itey?" I swore I heard something smug in his voice.  
  
"Chicago." I was staring at the New York streets. Big cities have a lot of similarities, you know, cars, crimes and.........uh.........children! The three 'C's.  
  
Bumlets grinned, "Chicago has," the lousiest shopping district? Corrupt street vendors? Me? "The biggest airport ever! Seriously Race," he turned to Racetrack, "they have revolving toilets. That's awesome!"  
  
Maybe Bumlets wasn't so bad after all.........  
  
Race shook his head, "great Bums, now your ass won't touch where someone else's did."  
  
A/n: ah yes, the wise words of Racetrack. Don't we all appreciate his.........um.........knowledge? I'd like to thank Mountie for telling me all about heavy metal. Anything that appears heavy metal knowledge-like came from her. Thank you, thank you, and thank you. Please keep reading and reviewing! 


	10. New Company

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
SpotLover421- Chicago airport really does have revolving toilets.  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
~Boots' PoV~  
  
We eased into our good old lunch routine. Garret bought 25 pieces of pie, we sat down at our good old regular lunch table, and Spot ate a huge pile of Jos Louis. But today we had an addition.  
  
"Why are you here?" Spot got right down to business.  
  
"Well, I moved last year and this is now my district school so—"  
  
Man was this kid stupid.  
  
"I mean why are you here with us?"  
  
"For lunch........." This kid knew none of the right answers.  
  
Spot blinked (can you imagine.........) confused (?). "You don't need any help.........fitting in........."  
  
The kid looked up from his purple Salisbury steak, "well, I don't fit in, but it's OK if I hang out with you anyways right?"  
  
Spot looked outwardly amazed. He swallowed, composed himself and continued. "So, what's your problem? Why don't you fit in?"  
  
He shrugged, "I'm a little temperamental, and paranoid. That's why people call me Skittery........." he trailed off like he had something more to say.  
  
"And........." Spot prompted, edging him onward.  
  
Skittery whispered something. I didn't hear but Spot did.  
  
"What?" I hate being excluded.  
  
"He's gay you nimrod!" Spot shook his head in disbelief. Luckily the cafeteria was noisy so no one heard. This was when I first noticed that Garret wasn't paying attention. He was presently having a love affair with a lemon meringue. I thought it best to leave him alone.  
  
"So what's the problem?" I asked.  
  
Now they both looked at me like I was off my rocker. But seriously, I didn't see a problem.  
  
"Guys are uncomfortable around me because they're afraid I'll make a move on them or something."  
  
Spot didn't look the least bit uncomfortable. I didn't feel the least bit uncomfortable. "Don't worry, I don't mind. I'm very confident in my inner- self," says Buddha Spot, "people everywhere should have equal rights! What do you think of gay marriage? They're fine by me. Don't worry Skittery; we'll help you become comfortable with all of your traits. Good or bad," we? That's a new one........."what do you say?" Spot shoved a Jos Louis in his mouth.  
  
"This sounds like a business deal." Skittery looked sceptical. I laughed, because it really did, but of course he agreed and Spot did what he does best, run other peoples lives.  
  
"First you should try meeting other people with the same problem as you, you know, fitting in, being comfortable with yourself and all that. Maybe you should go to some underage clubs. I know some.........uh........." Spot tapped his chin in deep thought, "Crush, Pinstripe, Cloud 29, Tortoiseshell—"  
  
"Uh, Spot?" Skittery cut him off with a grin," are you sure you're not gay?"  
  
Spot laughed good-humouredly, "I have a girlfriend."  
  
Skittery raised his eyebrows, "so?"  
  
He made a fair point, how did Spot know about all of these clubs if he was straight? I think he's hiding something.........  
  
"My cousin's gay."  
  
Or that.  
  
Skittery is starting to look nervous and skittish, "would you guys come with me?"  
  
Now Garret heard that. He jerked his head up, mouth full of apple pie.  
  
"I hope you're joking."  
  
"Uh, Skittery," now Spot looked uncomfortable, "I could get my cousin to bring you."  
  
Skittery looked a little crestfallen. "Oh, OK. Thanks Spot."  
  
Spot climbed back on his horse. "No problem," he grinned proudly. Spot is really dense sometimes.  
  
And that's when I said it. I don't know what made me do it; I guess I wasn't thinking, which is weird because I usually think too much. But I did it and I swear I was so surprised that I could have dropped dead.  
  
"I'll go with you."  
  
A/n: uh oh! Boots! Are you sure about that? Ha ha ha, but don't worry faithful readers, I know what happens. But that's all you're getting out of me (does happy-I-know-something-you-don't-know dance). Keep reading! And REVIEWING!!!! Please! 


	11. Techies and Mary

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
SpotLover421- Spot's girlfriend isn't even going to be mentioned again for many-a chapters.  
  
Almatari_of_Adra- Hon, you posted a review for the WRONG STORY. Mush, however, is drool-worthy in every fic.  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
~Mush's PoV~  
  
First co-ed practice since the shaving cream incident, I'm afraid that it didn't run much smoother than the first one. Blink, Skittery, Dutchy, and I knew our lines..........and that was about it.  
  
Luckily, Miss Larkson wisely made Piper check her shaving cream at the door.  
  
Blink was really good. Blink was really, really good. I know that he thinks that he's a lousy actor but he really was awesome. Maybe I should tape him and let him watch it. As a confidence booster.  
  
The practice probably would have been less chaotic if two of the techies hadn't beaten up one of the art guys and another techie. Miss Larkson had to throw them out because they were 'disturbing the peace'. She seriously said that.  
  
Twitch swooned whenever I came on the set and Rain catcalled and yelled, 'work it Prince-Boy! Work it!' Then I reminded Twitch that she was a nun and Rain that she was married to Montague. That shut them up; they really got into character after that. Almost to a scary extent.  
  
~Crutchy's PoV~  
  
I answered the telephone. "Kloppman's Rehab centre. Please state your name and need for rehabilitation."  
  
"Crutchy?"  
  
Oh shit, that was smart, "sorry, yes?"  
  
"It's Skittery."  
  
"Listen, my parents drove me insane, sent me to Kloppman's, died in a fatal plane crash, met when they were in Peace Corp, got married in 1982, were named Donna and Joe, liked campaigning to Save the Whales, had a bumper sticker that read 'I LUV MARY', are buried right smack in the middle of Times Square—"  
  
"Crutchy? Are you serious?"  
  
This kid was impossible! "Good-bye Skittery." I hung up. Surprisingly, he didn't call back.  
  
A/n: shortest PoV ever is awarded to Crutchy.........well, and Mush. *canned applause* That's about all I have to say about this chapter. Oh, and keep reading! Cheers! 


	12. Gaydar

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
*sigh* no shoutouts. I'd better get some reviews for this chapter, it's my birthday tomorrow!!!  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
~David's PoV~  
  
Spot wants me to take some gay kid out around town. He told him he's my cousin, which he is, but only my second cousin. This is weird because usually we just act like we don't know each other.  
  
But now he's at my mercy, begging me to take his friend out for a night on the town. What do you do when you're stuck under a rock? Call your gay cousin to pry you out.  
  
Unfortunately, I'm a pushover so I agreed to help him out. Luckily I made it clear to him that it wasn't a date because I have my sights set on someone else.  
  
The weirdest thing about this whole situation is that my family doesn't know I'm gay but Spot does. I don't know how he found out, it's not like I wear the flag to school, I'd get beaten up.........wait, I manage to get beaten up without announcing my sexuality. I'm a friggin walking punching bag. Spot has some finely tuned Gay-dar.  
  
At the moment I'm nursing a bruised eye and trying to understand my calculus homework. The Delanceys gave me a good pushing around, once again in my aid to jack. I don't think he noticed, Jack is a very proud person, he doesn't need help defending himself. But I didn't mind, I know he knows I helped him—and always will help him—somewhere inside of him.  
  
Les isn't dead, not even in critical condition. And Sarah came back late. I mean really late, not just for a 'school night', late for any night period. My mom didn't say anything. My dad didn't say anything. And that's because they 'trust' Sarah, and jack's a 'nice boy'. They don't know what they really do on these dates; poor misleaded souls.  
  
~Specs' PoV~  
  
Tonight we went 'cruising for girls'. It didn't go too well. Snitch had to bring his little brother so all we really had the chance to do was go to Chuckee Cheese's and the movies. Of course, Snipeshooter thought they were both pretty boring, but granted, so did I.  
  
I don't think we saw any eligible girls.........except the one who sold us our movie tickets, but there was really no chance of asking her out.  
  
And now for the world's most embarrassing moment.........I saw Spring.........with that rocker kid. They were 'at the movies (like in all those weird cinema adds). I guess something just snapped and soon I was on him and Spring was screaming 'Specs! Specs! Get off him! Get off Bumlets!' and Bumlets just sort of fell limp and I just kept punching him.  
  
Eventually the security had to come and pull me away, but they didn't have much of a struggle. I could see Spring as they pulled me away. She didn't look disgusted at all, in fact, she looked happy, pleased even. I guess girls like having guys fight over them. Bumlets stood up quite easily and unruffled looking. That just made him want to punch him more.  
  
I felt mad at Bumlets, but not at Spring for dumping me. That's when I think it really sunk in. I don't love Spring. I don't even like Spring, at least not romantically. She was just another girl.  
  
Snipeshooter looked at me differently for the rest of the night. I'm ashamed that I sparked admiration in his eyes.  
  
A/n: Gay-dar, quite clever. I wish I'd thought of it. I wore Marley's suspendahs to school today. Again. I love my suspenders and pretending to be like Itey. 


	13. Siblings

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
SpotLover421: Hello, Buckles is doing shoutouts for today, and she would like to say thank you for zee birthday wishes. Er... Buttons is thankful for them. We all know that. But Bumlets can't get along with anyone, can he?  
  
( Still Friday)  
  
~Jack's PoV~  
  
Sarah's weird brother did it again. He told the Delanceys off for 'picking on me'. What a freak, he backs off; he's a little too desperate. Couldn't he just LEAVE ME ALONE?  
  
Sarah and I skipped school again today. We hung out outside Tibby's smoking cigarettes. It's hilarious because her parents never question her because she's got them eating out of the palm of her hand. And I guess I've got them fooled pretty well too.  
  
I don't think they've ever looked at her report card, although we can usually bribe some kid into writing our exams for us.  
  
My father, stepmother, and I live in a really beat-up part of town. My dad has been busted for marijuana possession but I don't think he really cares much about what 'kind of example' he's setting for me. He's never beaten me or anything, but he's like an absentee father. He's never there when I need him. So I hate him, I know I shouldn't say that about my father but it's true, I hate him.  
  
My mom is dead. She had cancer a long time ago. I know I shouldn't smoke because it causes cancer but I'll either give it to my dad from second-hand smoke or I'll die. Either way I benefit.  
  
Someday, when I grow up, I want to leave the big city and move.........somewhere.........anywhere that's not so cramped, not so restricted. Anywhere but here.  
  
If I'm waiting for anything in my life that's it. I don't think anyone has noticed that I'm waiting though.  
  
~Racetrack's PoV~  
  
Itey and Mrs Tadesco were over again today. This time, however, Itey and I walked into the kitchen to find our mothers at the table. With Itey's brother and two sisters. Does this family ever stop growing?  
  
"Anthony!" grinned Mrs Tadesco, "this is Andrea and Isaac, they're twins! And this is Trisha!" she gestured towards her children, a small girl with curly brown, Itey-esque hair, an older girl with very long straight dark brown hair, and a boy about the same age with similar hair only in a page- boy style.  
  
I noticed that Mrs Tadesco's eyebrows weren't any better.  
  
The kids were wearing button-up shirts like Itey had been. I wondered if they were little Korn babies underneath.  
  
That's when Mrs Tadesco's face fell as she looked me over. "Anthony," uh oh, "do you have any brothers or sisters?"  
  
"Um........." I looked at her face, I knew what she wanted to hear, but is that what I wanted to tell her? On the other hand my mother was sitting right there, "actually I—"  
  
"He has two brothers and one sister." Look! It's Mom to the rescue!  
  
Mrs Tadesco was smiling again. She looked around quickly, as if expecting them to pop out of a vase or potted plant. "Where are they?" she blinked.  
  
"Oh," my mother took control, "Anthony is the youngest. His sister went to college just this year. His brothers are off in the working world. Very prominent," working world? I hardly call it work, my oldest brother is a stock broker, so all he has to do is guess, and he sucks at even that. My other brother got fired from a job at a local McDonalds. McDonalds for Gods sake! That's considered prominent? Even if it is he still got fired! I never thought that 'prominent' and 'unemployed' was the same thing but I guess it is to my mother. "I'm so proud of all three of them." WHAT? Three? She has FOUR kids! What about me? I'm standing RIGHT HERE!  
  
"Anthony," she said quite sweetly, "how about you go to your room and play?"  
  
"And let the grown ups talk?" I muttered.  
  
For a split-second she glared at me but regained herself and turned back to the company.  
  
I think she likes to see me squirm. She's like Cruella Devil.  
  
A/n: poor forgotten Racetrack, I wouldn't forget about him. And who would have guessed it, Jack's got a dysfunctional family, that's new (introducing, sarcasm) 


	14. Horizontal

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
None, but granted, I posted really quickly.  
  
(Saturday)  
  
~Boots' PoV~  
  
The week is over and it's SATURDAY!!! I'd be double this excited if I weren't so nervous. I don't have any homework, I don't have any soccer practice, I don't have any homework, I don't have any.........anything else, but I do have a commitment to Skittery.  
  
So I tried to comb my hair, but I realized that my hair is un-combable. I tried ironing my shirt but then it got all of these really obvious folding creases. Then I stopped trying because I realized that we were going to a gay bar and I'm not gay.  
  
Spot's cousin picked me up at 8:30. I've seen him around school but I didn't know that he was gay; he sure didn't look too gay. But, then again, neither did Skittery. The cousin didn't look too happy either.  
  
"Hi. David, right?"  
  
He nodded and scowled, "Ben?"  
  
"Boots." This was a very stimulating conversation.  
  
"Oh. We're going to pick up that other kid.........uh, Skittery."  
  
"OK." I really didn't know what I was going to say to this guy.  
  
"So.........what's your story?" Once again, I hate being excluded.  
  
He tensed but didn't answer.  
  
"Well?"  
  
He glared at me, "I'm in love with my sister's boyfriend."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"What's your story?" He looked complied to ask.  
  
"I don't have one."  
  
He laughed, but it wasn't a friendly laughter, it was a rough accusing laugh.  
  
"I really don't."  
  
"That's a lie and you know it. What's up? Got dumped by your boyfriend? Rejected by your crush?"  
  
I blinked, "I'm not gay."  
  
He scoffed, "sure you're not, sure you're not. Why would you be here otherwise?"  
  
I clenched my teeth and stared out the window.  
  
It remained uncomfortably silent as we drove on. We pulled up the driveway of a small, narrow townhouses.  
  
David honked very loudly and furiously, coaxing Skittery outside. He ran out, looking very ruffled and happy, wearing black jeans and a RENT t- shirt.  
  
"Oh. My. God. A flamer." David watched as Skittery circled the car.  
  
"Huh?" I blinked again. Skittery climbed in.  
  
David turned to me, "do you know what RENT is?"  
  
I shook my head, was this some sort of gay sex thing? Wow, am I out of it.  
  
Skittery grinned mockingly at me, obviously happy to show off his knowledge of weird gay stuff. "It's about people living in The Village. Hi, I'm Skittery." Skitts offered David his hand.  
  
David ignored him and pulled out of the driveway. Skittery coughed slightly and deliberately before settling back into his seat.  
  
"So.........where are we going?" I tried to remember some of the places Spot had mentioned.  
  
"Horizontal," David said bluntly, turning onto a busy road.  
  
That wasn't one of them. "I haven't heard of it."  
  
"You did say that you weren't gay didn't you?" David didn't wait for an answer, "exactly. If you're not gay you've probably never heard of it."  
  
We pulled into a rundown parking lot and got out. I noticed that David didn't bother to lock the doors.  
  
It was starting to rain as we walked through the darkened lot and I stepped in a puddle. It soaked through my shoe and my sock squished as I stepped. David pulled open a beat-up door and ushered us in.  
  
"Shouldn't we use the front door? Skittery looked around the dim foyer curiously, smiling happily.  
  
"Just go through genius." David pointed towards a much nicer door that read 'Horizontal'—ironically—vertically.  
  
"Um, OK." Skittery went through first. The room behind was very full and a wordless song was blaring over the speakers. The dance floor was packed with teenage boys. David led us over to the bar.  
  
A short guy wearing a very tight salmon coloured shirt strutted over. "What'll it be Sweet Cheeks?"  
  
I looked around before realizing he was talking to me, "um..........a rum and Coke?"  
  
"Sorry Sweet Cheeks, this is an underage club. I can't serve alcohol. Anything else?"  
  
"Just a Coke then, thanks."  
  
"Soda water." David didn't make eye contact.  
  
"Iced tea," Skittery grinned.  
  
I rolled my eyes, "Iced tea? What a pansy drink."  
  
"Hel-lo!" Skittery gestured towards the dance floor, "gay bar."  
  
Our drinks came quickly and someone asked Skittery to dance. He left—grinning madly—and disappeared into the throng.  
  
David slouched over to a corner, glaring at the crowd. The only thing that could have perfected his gloomy aura was a couple dozen cigarettes and a cloud of stale smoke.  
  
I jingled the ice around in my glass. A guy wearing all denim and a red baseball hat sat down beside me.  
  
"Hi." He smiled. His teeth were really white. Maybe he used Crest Whitestrips.  
  
"Hi." I crunched my ice.  
  
"I'm Swifty." He offered his hand.  
  
"Boots." I shook it.  
  
"So, I was thinking Boots," he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "would you like to dance?" he smiled again.  
  
"I'm sorry, I can't."  
  
"Boyfriend?" He wasn't smiling so much anymore.  
  
"No, I'm straight."  
  
Swifty looked me over slowly. "If you say so." He walked away.  
  
"Why didn't you dance with him Sweet Cheeks?" asked the bar man (although I'm sure he wouldn't mind being called a bar maid). He was shining a glass with a very dirty rag and it reminded me of an old black-and-white Western movie.  
  
"I'm. Straight."  
  
He answered me with much the same tone as David had, "of course you are Sweet Cheeks."  
  
I gazed out onto the dance floor and spotted Swifty at the edge, looking around slowly. How pathetic.  
  
"Come on Sweet Cheeks. Go dance with the poor boy. He looks awful lost."  
  
The bar maid was right. Swifty looked like a lost puppy dog. I sighed very loudly, downed the rest of my ice, and headed over.  
  
"Swifty? I guess I'll take you up on that offer........."  
  
I swear to God his face lit up. He grabbed my arm and led me toward the centre. He was actually pretty cute. Shut up Boots. I am straight. I am straight. Just keep telling yourself that.  
  
A/n: OK, OK, all you people out there who like the pairs to remain constant, I'm sorry, this story messes around with them CONSTANTLY! R&R anyways people! 


	15. Dark Rooms

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Digitalangel4U- YAY! A new reviewer! Thanks, I read Romeo and Juliet a while ago in class. I kinda just guessed the friars, and (in my defence) the copies we got in class were the condensed versions so there was only one friar. I did read R&J on my own a little while ago though.  
  
MaNgAnIqUeEn- it's the dawn of the new reviewers! I like it! And of course I'll conmtinue! I have no life otherwise.........  
  
SpotLover421- Boots is TURNING! (huns 'Turning' from Les Mis) It is kinda cute, isn't it?  
  
Almatari_of_Arda- sun.........day?  
  
(Still Saturday)  
  
~Kid Blink's PoV~  
  
I'm sitting on Mush's bed. My parents are out of town because my great aunt died or something. I don't think I liked her very much so that's why I didn't go. My sister and brother are at the babysitter's and I would have had to stay at home alone. But Mush invited me so I came. I wouldn't want to be the only one in my house it's too creepy.  
  
But Mush has gone to get a bunch of gym mats and patio chair cushions for me to sleep on so I'm just sitting here waiting.  
  
For the first time I'm realizing how dark his room really is. It's painted really dark green, and the curtains are plaid, and the bed sheets are plaid, and all of his furniture—his desk, bed, dresser, bookshelf, and bedside table—are all made of the same dark brown wood. What's more, there's a really tall maple tree right outside his window so I'm pretty sure it's dark even in the daytime.  
  
So I got off the green-plaid bed and stand in front of his closet reading the comics he has taped to the door. And I do this for a while before realizing that I never knew that Mush had comics on his closet door before tonight. Then it hits me: I haven't really ever spent too much time at Mush's house before. So I back up and stand in front of the window where I can see everything.  
  
Mush, I decide, is meticulously neat. He has no clutter on his desk, no clothes on the floor, and –heaven forbid—his bed is made. Lining his bookshelves are The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, The Midwitch Cuckoos, The Lord of the Rings (all of the possible books, yes, even The Adventures of Tom Bombadil), a collection of Sherlock Holmes, the Narnia series, and—surprisingly—half a dozen new day poetry books.  
  
There is something very intriguing about Mush's room now, but I can't exactly put my finger on it. So I browse with mild curiosity, drinking in every detail.  
  
And, quite suddenly, Mush is back. I help him lay down the mats and cover the blankets. He stands up and looks me straight in the eye.  
  
"Get ready for bed Blink." I can see he's fighting back a yawn.  
  
I notice, just now, how green his eyes really are. Maybe it's just the dark paint in the dark room.  
  
~Swifty's PoV~  
  
Boots. I hope Murphy dies and brings his stupid law to hell with him. How come when I like a guy he's straight? Can't he be queer? Just once. Every time.........  
  
Ever since I told Jack my life has been rolling down a hill to nowhere. Don't go making up odd storylines in your head, Jack Sullivan is my half- brother. We were never very close, but we were close enough for our family. I told him I was gay. Turns out, Jack—who is a damn homophobe—freaked out and told our dad. The next thing I know I was on a street corner with one change of clothes and $20. That was all. I haven't seen or heard from them since. I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to my mom. They didn't let me; she'd probably not let them send me away and make me stay.  
  
I don't know why my mom ever married Robert Sullivan and, in the process, inherited his one-month-old son. So it was dad, mom, and (every other weekend) Jack, he used to live at his mom's place but then she died a few years ago and he lived with us full time. But I was a love child. I know a girl who thinks it's cool to be a love child but that's because she probably has a really boring reality life and has to make up stories about it or live vicariously through others. Honestly, being a love child sucks. My mom and dad don't love each other. Heck, they don't even like each other. I know my mom loves me and she's learned to accept Jack, who spits at her, despises my dad, and thinks that I'm a freak of nature. My family bites.  
  
But now they've kicked me out so I'm living over a gay club called 'Horizontal' with free board if I work behind the bar on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. Every day I work at the supermarket, which serves a duo-purpose because I get a discount on groceries and a pay check.  
  
I don't go to school mainly because a) I can't afford it and b) I don't have time to. I used to read those really bad books at the checkout stands in the grocery store but my supervisor caught me and told me I had to pay for them if I wanted to read them.  
  
I started hanging around Horizontal because I figured that at least all of the guys there are gay but I was wrong. Turns out they shipped in a straight guy to make me feel bad.  
  
On the bright side I do have Boots' phone number, but he didn't give it to me, his weird friend did.  
  
"Call him, I think he likes you." He said with a wink.  
  
But I don't know if I should, if anyone can break your heart faster than a girl, it's a boy.  
  
A/n: that is the cutest chapter ever. Especially Blink, Blink is soooo cute!!! R&R! 


	16. Dictionary Chips

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Almatari_of_Arda- no, no you didn't. and no, I couldn't have.  
  
(Still Saturday)  
  
~Dutchy's PoV~  
  
I went out for pizza with Specs. He told me about trying to beat up Spring's date at the movies and about going to Chuckee Cheeses. It was nice to be able to sit and talk to Specs over a large deluxe pizza, but something was different. It seemed like life was so much more complicated and there was so much more to say if only we could find the words. Sometimes, like then, I wish they had a dictionary chip that could be put in your memory so you'd always know exactly what to say when you need to, that way there wouldn't be any awkward silences, everyone would say what they want, when they want. Of course, that wouldn't always be the best thing because I would probably end up telling Specs about Romeo and Romeo.  
  
Eventually we had to go back home because Specs had an early swim practice and I had an English paper due on Monday. He drove me.  
  
We were driving down a very deserted back road. The radio was turned off and the windows were rolled down so all we heard was the engine and distant sirens and the wheels crunching on the unevenly paved road.  
  
Outside it smelt like rain, but not wormy rain, gentle and refreshing rain. I leaned my head against the plush headrest. The moist air filled my face and I was beginning to doze off.  
  
"Dutchy? We're here." I opened my eyes and we were parked in my driveway.  
  
I got out and shut the door. "Goodnight Specs," I said through the still- open window. He waved, smiled, and backed out. I climbed the porch steps when he called my name.  
  
I turned. Specs had obviously changed his mind; he wasn't very far from where he'd been when I got out. He stuck his head out the window, hesitated a moment before opening his mouth and called, "I love you Dutchy."  
  
He didn't wait for me to answer, and it was a good thing because I still don't know what to say.  
  
I stood watching the road until my mom came out and made me go inside because it was starting to rain harder.  
  
A/n: la la la, love is in the air, la la la, the moist and wormy air, la la la, it showed up in the air, la la la, who knew it would be there? Woo hoo! I made Specs and Dutchy a song! That's AWESOME! R&R. Please. 


	17. The Trouble With Love

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Trinity-matrix13- sorry! I got your review late! I'd already posted! And I maintain that Itey is the best. :P  
  
Strawberri Shake- Thanks for reading them all! The Race/Spot is.........hey! I can't give it away! I'll tell you this much, everything comes around eventually.........dammit I'm giving it away. And making Crutchy happy didn't seem to flow. He needs to be pessimistic. That's the BEST way.  
  
SpotLover421- thanks. I like happy reviews. And I review every day. Not much life otherwise.  
  
(Still Saturday)  
  
~Jack's PoV~  
  
"Listen, Sarah, I have to—"  
  
"No! Jack!" she crushed her lips against mine. She pulled me back onto her bed and struggled with my shirt.  
  
"Jack," she pulled my shirt over my head, breaking our kiss, "Jack kiss me."  
  
I was goddamnit! You pulled my shirt off. So I kissed her more. And that shut her up. For a while, until she sat up abruptly and lit up two cigarettes. She thrust one at me and I took it and slouched against the wall.  
  
The room was dark so all I could see was her outline and the glowing end of her cigarette.  
  
Outside a dog barked, cars roared by, and the rain splattered on the window pane. Sarah and I sat smoking. She pulled open the window and the room cleared of smoke and filled with gasoline and city smells.  
  
She crawled beck on the bed, "Jack," she kissed my stomach, "tell me you love me," she kissed my shoulder blade.  
  
I laughed slowly, pulling her into a hug. I kissed her neck. "I love—"  
  
The bedroom door opened and Sarah screamed, pulling the sheet over her. In the doorway stood Mr Jacobs.  
  
Oh damn, this didn't look good. This wasn't good.  
  
A/n: pree short chapter, eh? Uh oh! Jack's in trouble!!! Whatever will we do? Duh nuh, duh nuh, duh nuh, duh nuh, duh nuh! (Jaws theme) Sorry for everyone who hates me for getting Jack into 'a spot of trouble'. I couldn't resist!  
  
Oh, *sniffle* I'm sick today. Soccer practice made me all headachy, sore throaty, and fevery. I NEVER get sick. Something's wrong.  
  
And how do you start a new section??? CAMP will never get its justice until I know how!!! 


	18. Friend Repellent

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- schizo.........yes.........sorry, it was to keep the story going. Mr Jacobs had to smell the smoke, it was the only way! And I love Dutchy and Specs, they're sooo cute!  
  
SpotLover421- I wish David and Jack were together!  
  
Alex: Buttons, you ARE the author.........  
Buttons: shut up! I can write as I please, even if it bugs me!  
  
(Sunday)  
  
~Crutchy's POV~  
  
I haven't heard from Skittery since her last called me but I did see him. Just tonight I was sitting on my windowsill and listening to nothing when I saw his drive up with two other guys. The first thing I noticed was that he was walking differently. It wasn't the old gloomy Skittery walk. He literally bounced and skipped up the driveway.  
  
I watched his door for a while, almost anticipating that he was going to come out onto his stoop and scream up to me. But he didn't and I didn't move from my sill long into the night. Eventually Uncle Kloppman came to my room and told me to shut the window because the whole house was getting 'drafty'. So I shut the window loudly, fell into my nest of sheets that I call a bed, and turned on my radio.  
  
Truth be told, I miss Skittery calling me and bothering me about stuff that I don't care or want to hear about.  
  
Is there such a thing as 'friend repellent'? Because I must be wearing it lately. I'm serious, how many 17-year-old boys do you know who sit in their room alone on a Saturday night wondering if there's such a thing as 'friend repellent'? How many 17-year-old boys do you know who wish their annoying next-door neighbour would call and bother him so he'd have something to do or at least complain about? I am such a loser right now.  
  
So I'm lying sprawled out in my nest and Uncle Kloppman knocks on the door and says:  
  
"Eric, it's one thirty in the morning! Please turn off the radio; I have to wake up early for church.  
  
I don't bother to remind him that there's a later mass than the one he goes to and turn off the radio like he asked.  
  
As he clomps back down the stairs I can't help but think that I'm an awfully big pushover.  
  
~Itey's PoV~  
  
"Trisha, please go to bed."  
  
My littlest sister was curled up in the living room couch, wearing her bright yellow canary-like pyjamas, and refusing to go to her room.  
  
"I'm not sleepy." Her eyelids fluttered as she fought back a yawn.  
  
"Trisha, bedtime was," I checked my watch. It's two am, "four hours ago. Please go to bed."  
  
She shook her head stubbornly, curling her lower lip in some sort of a plea. I ignored it and hoisted her over my shoulder. I carried her into the bedroom she shares with Andrea and I tucked her in.  
  
"Trisha, go to bed before Mommy gets home."  
  
She pouted again and rolled over, but soon her breathing grew heavy and I knew she was asleep.  
  
I collapsed into the very old armchair in the family room and turned on the TV. The phone rang.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Itey? It's Racetrack."  
  
I have to admit, I was pretty surprised. "Race, it's 2 in the morning. How'd you know I'd be up?"  
  
"You're babysitting, right?"  
  
I nodded and then realized that we were talking on the phone. "Yeah."  
  
"And Trisha's how old?"  
  
"Seven."  
  
"By my calculations she only just got to bed. Am I right?"  
  
"How'd you know that?" Did he have the house bugged?  
  
"Hello! I'm the youngest in a family of four kids too. I know all of the tricks."  
  
"Oh, OK." That made sense. "How's Bumlets?"  
  
"That's what I called you about. He's at his house right now. Turns out some guy from varsity tried to beat him up the other day. That's why he couldn't come over today!" I don't know why, but Race sounded extremely cheerful.........and hyper.  
  
"So? Wait, why would some varsity guy try and beat him up?" I didn't understand this at all.  
  
"Because Bums was dating his ex-girlfriend!" I could hear Race laughing hysterically.  
  
"Huh? I don't get it........."  
  
"We're not thought that highly of by people on varsity. The whole school is turning into a friggin soap opera and Bums is the star!" Race was laughing again.  
  
I sighed, "listen Racetrack, I'll call you at a more decent hour of the day and we can talk about 'As New York Turns' or 'The Bold and the Bumlets' or whatever. Right now I just want to get some sleep. Good night."  
  
"Good night Iteeeee," managed Race between gasps of laughter.  
  
I practically fell down the stairs to my basement bedroom. I wasn't lying, I was thoroughly exhausted.  
  
A/n: sorry all Crutchy-loving reviewers! He turned grumpy! Hopefully, he will change back soon, but that all lies in my hands! Oh, the power! And I love Itey. Still. 


	19. Feathers and Whipped Cream

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberry Shake- 'the Bold and the Bumlets'? That was one of my finer moments. Yep, one of the few spats of wit I have in me.  
Almatari: 'tis true! I'm at Alex's house!  
Buttons: My name is Buttons when I'm writing! Keep that in mind PLEASE!  
  
(Still Sunday)  
  
~Mush's PoV~  
  
"Blink?" I prodded him with my foot, "Bl-ink wake uuuppp!"  
  
Blink rolled over onto his stomach but otherwise didn't stir. He was very stubborn but I never knew what a sound sleeper he was.  
  
"Blink, come on, it's almost 10:30." He didn't budge.  
  
OK, this was too tempting and I've always wanted to try it.........so I ran out of the room and came back with a huge pink craft feather and a canister of whipped cream. I poked him and he rolled once again onto his back. I sprayed some whipped cream on his open palm and raised the feather.........  
  
He slapped me full on in the mouth. I sputtered and choked down the fluffy cream.  
  
"Good try Mush." He sat up laughing, "good try, next time you shouldn't kick me and I'll be the one with a mouth full of whipped cream."  
  
He laughed harder and I wiped the whipped cream off my eye where it had splattered, "you didn't have to hit me so hard. There's whipped cream lodged in my gums."  
  
I ran my tongue over my teeth, licking the scuzz off of them.  
  
Blink was staring at me now, blinking slowly, covering his electric blue eyeballs in the process. For the first time I realized that he wasn't wearing his eye patch. When his eye patch was off it really brought out the colour in his face.........erm.........was Blink blushing?  
  
"Here, let me help you," his eyes got closer to mine and then shut. His lips pressed against my lips.  
  
Shocked, I shoved him away. "What the hell are you doing?" I stumbled backwards. Before he had the chance to answer I had slammed the door. I was running. I had to get out of there. What was going on?  
  
A/n: ahh! MushBlink! Who loves the MushBilnk?  
  
Alex: (jumping up and down) oh! Oh! Pick me!  
  
Buttons: yes Alex?  
  
Alex: um...you do?  
  
Buttons: correct. Read and review people! Please! 


	20. Around the Dinner Table

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- as said before, the SpRace is coming, I'm just writing it now. Unfortunately that is quite a few chapters ahead...  
  
(Still Sunday)  
  
~David's PoV~  
  
My sister screaming and my father yelling woke me up last night. Now I'm sitting on the steps listening to the conversation circling the dinner table.  
  
On one side are my dad—still in his work clothes—, and my mom—who is wearing her nightgown. On the other side is my sister—wearing her bed sheet wrapped like a toga, and I'm pretty sure nothing underneath—and Jack—wearing his boxers.  
  
After I got over staring at Jack in his boxers I finally started to absorb what they were saying.  
  
"What were you thinking?" My dad.  
  
"I'm very disappointed in you Sarah." This time my mom.  
  
"Listen sir, it's not—"cue Jack.  
  
"I don't want to hear from you boy! If it weren't for you my daughter wouldn't have gone astray."  
  
My sister doesn't say anything, she's just picking at a straying cuff of her bed sheet. What a coward, won't even stand up for her own boyfriend!  
  
"Daddy, it's not Jack's fault. I love him." Shut up Sarah, proving me wrong like that.  
  
"Don't let him hear you say that Sarah! What if he doesn't love you? I know about boys like him, only in it for the sex. Just wait until you forget about birth control or he forgets a condom!" Dad again.  
  
"Daddy!" screamed Sarah, no doubt surprised that he'd talk about 'birth control' and 'condoms' in front of her boyfriend—well, soon to be ex- boyfriend (YES!!!).  
  
"Actually sir, I do love Sarah. I'm willing to be put up against any obstacle to be with her." I cringed. Wrong answer Jack.........well for me. Right answer for my parents.  
  
"Jack, I think that it's time for you to leave," my mom said calmly yet firmly.  
  
My dad didn't say anything. I'm sure that he was as red as a tomato; something I would find funny was this not such a crucial moment in my love life.  
  
Jack stood up and climbed out the window onto the fire escape, our most popular entrance and exit. He was still in his underwear. My mom shut the window behind him softly and pulled the curtains shut. Then she turned to Sarah.  
  
"I want you to quit smoking immediately. No easing off, you're learning the hard way: cold turkey." She continued to babble, but I didn't hear because I'd grabbed Jack's clothes from Sarah's room and stole out the door.  
  
I caught him before he hit the pavement.  
  
"Brought your clothes." I held them out.  
  
He stared at them for a minute and then, without a word, snatched them up and started to dress himself.  
  
When he was done he turned wordlessly and trudged down the street. I didn't bother to call after him, this was probably the last time I'd ever see Jack F. Kelly-Sullivan.  
  
A/n: poor, poor David. I guess this is where the 'star-crossed lovers' thing comes into play. In terms of Sarah and Jack, I mean. Want to see how it works out? Good! Review! 


	21. What's Love?

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Almatari_of_Arda- the whipped cream thing isn't so original. It's been done...  
  
Flux, the newsie swing kid- HEY! You *points at you* stole ME! *pokes self in the eye* OUCH! That hurt! Do you mean 'camp' as in CAMP? Like the movie? With Michael, Ellen and *shiver* Vlad?  
  
Strawberri Shake- I'm not sure how much more of the 'star-crossed lovers' thing you'll see, it was just a thing to say.  
  
(Still Sunday)  
  
~Dutchy's PoV~  
  
What does it mean when your best friend tells you he loves you? Did he mean it like, 'thanks for being there for me man, I love you,' or did he mean it like, 'you're so hot, I want to screw you, I love you'? Did he say it as a joke? Then again, why would he have driven away so fast? Maybe he was feeling vulnerable.  
  
The weirdest thing about this is that I don't care that he said he loved me. I don't care how he loves me because that's probably how I love him back.  
  
I don't know what's supposed to happen next. Should I call him and tell him that I love him? Should I ignore it and pretend like it never happened? Should I ask him what he meant?  
  
My head is full of questions that I don't even know how to ask. So I do the next best thing, I ask my sister.  
  
"Jean, what do you say when someone tells you they love you?" we have very Dutch names. Mine is 'John' but in Dutch it's pronounced 'Yo', it's confusing so people just call me plain 'Dutchy'. Because of my last name.  
  
"Who loves you John?" she reluctantly lowered her magazine to talk to me.  
  
"No one.........well someone.........a friend.........but they were just a friend but now I think I love them too. What am I supposed to do? Do I call them? Should I tell them I love them back?"  
  
"Tell your friend whatever you want. I don't think it's doing you much good worrying about it. Go out and ask her—I assume it's a 'her'—," awkward moment, "—what she meant by saying she loves you. If you return the feeling than tell her so."  
  
Wow, fourteen-year-olds sure know a lot about.........lots of stuff. That's right, fourteen, I asked my younger sister for love advice.  
  
~Kid Blink's PoV~  
  
I told Mush's family that he went out for a run, which isn't untrue because he left at a pretty quick pace. That was two hours ago.  
  
"Are you sure Scott is still on a run? He left a while ago." His mom looked up from her novel when I came downstairs.  
  
"He's.........uh.........really trying to get in shape?" I left quickly before she doubted me due to my scepticism. In the kitchen Mush's dad was doing a crossword puzzle and eating a bagel.  
  
"Oh, hello Nathaniel. What's a nine letter word for 'dried, scented flowers'?"  
  
"Uh.........." I don't think he's noticed Mush is missing, "potpourri?" I opened the fridge and got out a can of Root Beer.  
  
He scribbled the work in its space and looked at me, "where's Scott gotten to?" I guess he has noticed.  
  
"He's gone for a—"I was cut off by someone slamming the front door. In the foyer stood a soaking wet Mush.  
  
"Scott," we heard his mother exclaim from the family room, "Why are you so wet? You're getting water all over the tile! Thomas!" she called Mush's brother, "get Scott a towel! He needs to dry off, he's going to catch a cold!"  
  
Mush didn't appear to have heard her and—without removing his shoes—went upstairs to his room. I drained my Root Beer and followed him.  
  
I got to his room and cracked open the door. He was sprawled on his bed. The area on his pillow around his head was turning wet from his hair. His clothes clung to his body and he was breathing heavily. I watched his chest raise and fall. I never noticed how broad Mush's shoulders were before. Or how muscular his stomach was. I just..........but I didn't. His eyes were closed and I knew that he wanted to be left alone, but I knocked anyways.  
  
"Mush? Mush, are you OK?" He opened his eyes and exhaled deeply.  
  
"Blink, we're going to pretend like it never happened. It never happened. You don't remember it, Lord knows that I don't remember it, so no one knows."  
  
I blinked, "that I kissed you? Why?"  
  
"God, Blink, I'm straight. I don't want to stop being friends, and I hope you got that whole 'experimental' thing out of your system, so it never happened. Just rewind to before it happened."  
  
I looked at him, "no Mush. No, I don't want to 'pretend like it never happened' because it did and I liked it."  
  
He gave me the a look that can be closest described as 'murderous' and let out an aggravated cry, "what the fuck am I supposed to say Blink? I didn't like it, I don't want to like it, and I don't want to remember it! Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn? Do you like causing problems? Do you like making me so frustrated that I can't even thing straight?"  
  
I smirked, "if I could do that there wouldn't be any problem."  
  
Before I let it sink in I left. This time it was my turn to run.  
  
A/n: oh no! I'm turning into Shakespeare! Oh, with the puns and the play on words! Except that mine aren't as witty. -_- Nonetheless, I want REVIEWS! So review! Please! 


	22. For the Sake of Learning

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Flux, the newsie swing kid- I have the soundtrach too! The things you can find at HMV, so much better than Music World. Music World my bum, there was only eight musical soundtracks there the other day. Only EIGHT!!! AND NO RENT!!! Anyways, I already wrote and loaded a CAMP story. But I found there was no section for it! No section a'tall! Whatever shall I do? Oh, and I don't have a Vlad muse. I don't like him so much. But I do have a Spitzer muse. He's my favourite!!!  
  
(Monday)  
  
~Swifty's PoV~  
  
I haven't seen Boots at all in.........since I last saw him, I've been trying to think of an excuse to call him, and then I got it.  
  
"Hello?" a woman picked up.  
  
"Hi. Is Boo—erm—Ben there?"  
  
"Benjamin is out at school right now. I'll tell him you called........."  
  
"Don't worry, I'll just call back later. Thank you." I hung up.  
  
Oops, that's right, school's on, it's Monday. So I'll call him back when I get back from the grocery store. If I remember.........wait! This is BOOTS, of course I'll remember.  
  
*  
  
So now it's 4:30 and I'm pretty sure he'll be home.  
  
"Hello?" and he is.  
  
"Hi, Boots? It's Swifty from Horizontal, I was wondering—"  
  
"Swifty, I'm straight." He sounds uncomfortable. My heart is dropping.  
  
"I—I know. I was wondering if you wanted to help me with something."  
  
"Um........." he sounded nervous, "what?"  
  
"I don't go to school. Do you think you could come over and teach me.........stuff?"  
  
"I don't think I'm a very good teacher."  
  
I wanted to say something like 'you taught me to love' but he didn't and that sounded too fake, too corny. And I think it was in a song once. But I don't know where from.  
  
"That's OK. Just show me what you learned at school."  
  
"I don't know........."  
  
"Boots, please! I think I'm growing stupider by the day!" that made him laugh. Than again, it was pretty funny and I would have laughed at me too. Are we not perfect for each other?  
  
"What do you say?" I was grasping at a straw. Please say yes. Please say yes.  
  
"OK, OK, when should I come over?"  
  
"Now? If that's OK for you........."  
  
"I'll be over soon." And he hung up. I could have danced in jubilation. But, of course, this was all for the sake of learning.  
  
A/n: sake of learning my chocolate-glazed phobia bum! I don't believe one word of it! Not a single word!  
  
Alex: do we have to go though this again? You are the writer! You can say whatever you want! Of course you know it's not for 'the sake of learning'!  
  
Buttons: who let you out anyways? Ignore her people, but you should read and review! Now...do it! You're not fast enough! Go! Supplies are limited! Good. 


	23. Questions and Hatred

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- Swifty is sweet! It's sooo cute!!! Has anyone ever paired Boots and Swifty though? I think NOT! I am smart. (not to brag)  
  
MaNgAnIqUeEn – sorry. I don't' mean to make them shorter. I write my fic as one and divide it up later. It just so happens that it divides short. luckily, I try to update every day! I hope this chapter is longer!  
  
(Still Monday)  
  
~Bumlets' PoV~  
  
I was sitting on my couch after school watching The Price is Right when Racetrack and Itey stopped by.  
  
"Nice shiner Bums," Race grinned when he saw me. He's seen me five times already today and every time he's said the same thing. Itey doesn't say much but he hides a smile whenever he sees me. I don't think it's a rude, mocking smile, just a friendly smile.  
  
"So, what exactly happened?" asked Itey quietly. Racetrack had disappeared to the kitchen; he makes himself at home where ever he goes.  
  
"I went out to a movie with Spring—"  
  
"Isn't she a cheerleader?"  
  
"Yeah, bu—"  
  
"Isn't her boyfriend on varsity?"  
  
"Ex-boyfriend. Can I continue?"  
  
"Sure, please do." About time.  
  
"So we went to the movies and—"  
  
"Did she ask you or did you ask her?"  
  
"She asked me. Anyways, we saw her ex-boyfriend and he kinda attacked me. I guess he's jealous. But Spring said she'd talk to him about it."  
  
"Why weren't you hurt more? Why isn't he hurt at all?"  
  
"When I was younger my next-door neighbour taught me thins thing where you relax and don't stiffen your joints so there's less a chance of you breaking something. Of course, that means you can't fight back."  
  
He smiled a little and Racetrack came back.  
  
"Bragging about your heroic endeavour?" Race cracked open a can of soda.  
  
I blushed and shook my head. He punched my arm, "nah, sure you're not." I knew he didn't believe me.  
  
~Specs' PoV~  
  
Why'd I do that? Why'd I tell him that I loved him? Do I love him? Do I know? I'm so confused right now.  
  
I didn't see him at all today even though I tried to find him. Maybe he's avoiding me. Maybe, secretly, I'm avoiding him. Maybe I'm scared of what he'll say to me.  
  
I love you. I love you. I love you. It's so easy to say, so maybe I said it without meaning it.  
  
I love you. I love you. I love you. Why would I have said it? Why would I say it if I didn't mean it? Isn't there an easy answer for anything?  
  
There are too many questions and not enough answers. I wish I could match them up, I wish my answers came with an answer book, it would make life so much easier. Maybe too easy, but what's too easy?  
  
I should call Dutchy and ask him all of this that would be easy. How would that sound though? Stupid, that's how. Probably something like this:  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi Dutchy, it's Specs."  
  
"Oh," quite coldly, "hello."  
  
"Listen, about what said—"  
  
"Specs, I hate you."  
  
And then he'd hang up because he hates me.  
  
Why does he hate me? See, another question.  
  
~Skittery's PoV~  
  
Whoopee! Life is GOOD! Thank you Spot! Thank you David! Thank you Guy-Who- Asked-Me-To-Dance! I love me! I love life!  
  
Nobody but my friends knows that 'I like boys'. My parents don't get it, they're a little slow on the uptake they haven't noticed my fascination with RENT and The Village.  
  
Spot thinks that I should move to San Francisco because there I could act out-of-the-closet and no one would think it was weird. I don't think that I could leave now, I'm just 'settling in' and getting comfortable here. I finally have friends who know my secret.  
  
I have an urge to call Crutchy but he really didn't seem to want to talk to me the other day. I should just let him call me.........but what if he doesn't? What if we never talk again because he's waiting for me to call? What if we drift further and further apart and act like we don't even know each other when we pass in the streets? What if someone asks him 'do you know Skittery?' and he says 'Skittery who?' that would be terrible.  
  
I hate being hated. On any level.  
  
A/n: OK. The 'Poor Skittery' chapter. But at the same time, the yay for Skittery and Guy-Who-Asked-Him-To-Dance. Who is this? A yet to be disclosed newsie? What does Buttons have up her sleeve?  
  
Buttons: HEY!!! YOU!!! Yes, YOU, weird narrator guy!  
  
Narrator: who, me?  
  
Buttons: yeah, it says 'a/n'. That stands for 'Author's Notes'. You're not the author! I'm the author.  
  
Narrator: fine then. What would you like to say?  
  
Buttons: what he said. Oh, and R&R! 


	24. Tutoring

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- ends? No, my dear reviewer, it has just begun *cue evil laughter* THANKS FOR THE REVIEW!!!  
  
Strawberri Shake- *more evil laughter* I will withhold information until the thirty-somethingth chapter. I went back and read what I've typed. Don't worry, it's there!  
  
(Still Monday)  
  
~Boots' PoV~  
  
Why am I doing this again? I thought as I knocked on the door to Swifty's room.  
  
"Just a minute!" someone—no doubt Swifty—yelled from inside. I heard a lot of scuffling around before he appeared at the door.  
  
"Oh, hi Boots." He sounded shocked.  
  
"Are you surprised to see me? You asked me over."  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Come in, come in." he sounded very flustered.  
  
I sat down at his small table. The chair's legs were uneven so it rocked when I did.  
  
"Do you want something to drink?" he was awfully jittery.  
  
"Swifty," should I......... "Do you like me?"  
  
He blushed and looked at the tile. "Um.........yes........."  
  
"Well don't. I'm helping you learn. Pretend.........pretend I'm a girl." That may have been the wrong thing to say.  
  
Swifty grinned deviously, "are you sure you're not gay?"  
  
"Are you sure you are?" I countered.  
  
"Point taken and recorded." He sat across from me, his pen and paper ready.  
  
*  
  
"So, a squared plus b squared equals c squared?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What if I want to find a side that isn't the hypotenuse?"  
  
"I'll.........um.........I'll teach you tomorrow."  
  
We got up and he walked me to the door.  
  
"Bye Swifty, I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye Boots.........and you really would have looked nice in a dress," he called to my back. I heard the door shut softly after me.  
  
A/n: does anyone need to know how to find the unknown length of a triangle if it isn't the hypotenuse?  
  
Alex: Buttons, nobody cares about the Pythagorean Therom.  
  
Buttons: how dare you!!! I care about Pythagorean! Poor Pythagorean, you hurt his feelings!  
  
Alex: how do you now it's a boy?  
  
Buttons: I just do!  
  
Anyways, read and review people! Reviews motivate me to...uh...be a better person...? Do it anyways. I love my reviews! *huggles computer* 


	25. Confusing Phone Calls

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
*Sighs happily and surveys reviews* I love reviews!!! Thanks all!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- Hey! Itey is MINE!!! But I guess I'll be nice, we can share him. You get him on weekends and I get him weekdays. I never said it would be equal sharing. And for Specs Dutchy see...THIS CHAPTER!!!  
  
Strawberri Shake- I'm good at math. I wrote that chapter in math class though and was in a moment of uncreativeness. We were doing Pythagorean so I wrote it in.  
  
(Still Monday)  
  
~Dutchy's PoV~  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
Shuffling.  
  
"Um........."  
  
"Hi, Dutchy? It—it's Specs."  
  
"Oh. Hi."  
  
"Listen, I don't know why........." he trailed off. Great backing there.  
  
"Specs, I don't—I can't love you."  
  
I could practically hear him frowning. His voice was literally drooping, "why—that's uh.........I—I can't love you either?"  
  
Is he asking me? "Good."  
  
"Wait, why can't you love me?"  
  
I don't know. "I'm a boy."  
  
"So?" did he sound more confident that before?  
  
"I........." am grasping at a straw here! "I'm Romeo! Specs, it's Romeo and Juliet. JULIET!!! She's a she! Romeo has to like girls, he can't like boys!"  
  
"Why?" Damn, the confidence was still there.  
  
"There were never any gay Romeos. He has to like girls. He has to."  
  
"That's where you're wrong. In CAMP Michael was Romeo and Michael was gay. Plus, William Shakespeare himself was bisexual."  
  
"In what?"  
  
"CAMP, you haven't seen it?"  
  
"No........." um, stray from the topic much?  
  
"Maybe you should. You'd like it. It's about these kids who go to a performing arts camp. And they tap dance."  
  
"Why were you watching that?" this did not seem like a Specs movie.  
  
"Well," ah, I sense reluctance, "Spring made me watch it."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Maybe you can come over and we'll watch it........."  
  
"Uh.........OK, I guess."  
  
"Bye." That was abrupt.  
  
"Bye." I hung up.  
  
Did I just agree to go on a date? With Specs?  
  
A/n: aww! Specs and Dutchy are sooo CUTE!!! *pinches their cheeks* and I love CAMP! It is by far the best movie about camp EVER! It has singing, dancing, and—when you're lucky—both of them together! That's what I call a winning combo! Go rent CAMP, today! But review first. 


	26. Strawberry Conditioner

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ______' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- here's the good part about CAMP...they're all GAY!!! All of them!!! Seriously! Well, except Vlad, but he doesn't count. And they mention Fame in CAMP. And didn't I mention that there were no women actors in Shakespeare's times? Oh, yes, in chapter 1.  
  
Sloane Miette- fine, Friday s are weekends. I get him Monday through Thursday than? Good, we are in agreement. Virtual handshake. CAMP rocks!!! I've already written my CAMP fiction, but I can't post it. Too bad, that.  
  
(Still Monday)  
  
~Spot's PoV~  
  
"Hi Mrs Armstrong."  
  
"Just a minute Simon. I'll get Julie for you."  
  
She left me standing in the hallway. I felt it fit to rock back and forth on the balls of my feet and whistle. So I did.  
  
"What are you doing?" Sprinter appeared at the top of the steps.  
  
I grinned, "pulling a Mickey Mouse. You know, Steamboat Willie or whatever."  
  
She laughed, tossing her long, blonde, ringletted hair over her shoulder.  
  
"Are we ready to go?" I checked my watch.  
  
"Sure!" she bounced down the steps, "bye Mom! Bye Daddy!" Sprinter grabbed her purse and whipped on her jacket.  
  
We piled into my car. Sprinter bubbled on for a while. I nodded and smiled, though—don't tell her this—I didn't really hear a word she said.  
  
"So I had track practice this morning. Coach Snyder thinks I'm in the running for the 800-metre—pardon the pun." She laughed at her own joke.  
  
"Mmm-hmm........."  
  
"Anyways, I noticed you've been hanging out with a new guy. Who is he?" she flipped her hair again. Sprinter smells a lot like strawberries. Almost sickeningly so, maybe she was wearing some sort of strawberry perfume, or using strawberry conditioner.  
  
"His name's Skittery. I'm just helping him out."  
  
"No, Spot, not again. You get no gratitude from helping these people. Why do you bother trying? Don't you get tired of people ditching you as soon as they get what they want?"  
  
Sprinter doesn't understand. I like helping people and at least I know that my real friends won't get up and desert me. That's Boots and 'Pie Eater'.........and maybe Skittery now. I don't really know, but he seems genuine enough.  
  
"Sprinter," I raised my eyebrows warningly, she knows how I feel about her bashing what I did.  
  
"I'm sorry Spot. I'm sorry, you know I love you." She smiled sweetly and leaned over to kiss my cheek.  
  
"I love you too Sprinter. I know you only mean well, but I can choose to do what I think is right, OK?"  
  
She looked a little sad and nodded meekly. I felt really evil, like I was telling her how to feel or act, but soon she shook it off and went back to tell me about the state track meet next week. Though I only feigned interest I'm still convinced that I have a near perfect life.  
  
A/n: OK, this author's note has absolutely NOTHING to do with this chapter. It was just funny.  
  
My sister was taking a social studies test and one of the questions was:  
  
Every citizen of Canada has the right to vote in a...  
  
The correct answer is 'free election'.  
  
Her answer was 'voting booth'.  
  
It really was very funny. Unfortunately she didn't get the mark. 


	27. Roommates

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- sigh it's been an Angsty day for poor Buttons. I'm sad. But sorry, there's no Skitts/Crutchy. I already have a guy for Skittery in mind...  
  
Sloane Miette- I'm glad you get Itey on weekends now. I'm in a tournie for soccer all weekend and would neglect poor Itey in my adventures. Look after him well! If he has one out of place hair on Monday, I'll know who it was! Wish me luck in the tournie please all!!! Oh, and Blockbuster should have CAMP...I think.  
  
(Tuesday)  
  
Kid Blink's PoV  
  
"Do you need any help here?" the saleslady looked unsure if she should even be asking.  
  
"Actually," I tried to sound light, "I was here to see if there were any jobs open. I can work part-time, after school hours and on weekends."  
  
The woman turned me down; telling me it is 'a job that needs experience'. How much experience do you need to work at a furniture store?  
  
I left and sat in the back parking lot. It was really cold and quite wet because of the rain we'd been having the last few days. I have been looking for a job because I know that my parents won't exactly accept what I'd done with open arms. I know I needed a place to stay until they got over the shock. Unfortunately, I have been finding it impossible to get a job. Maybe it's because I haven't showered since I left Mush's two days ago, having to sleep outside and all.  
  
"Are you OK?" a man who had been throwing something into a dumpster came towards me. He stepped back pretty quickly, perhaps startled by my smell.  
  
"Huh? Uh.........I'm alright, I'm just looking for a job." Then quite hopefully, "I don't suppose you have one for me?"  
  
The man looked me over. "Come in," he gestured to a door and nodded.  
  
I followed him through two doors, one plain, and another very flashy reading 'Horizontal'. The lights were a little dim, but I could make out a dance floor, band platform, bar, and a few small circular tables. The man sat at one of them.  
  
"Sit down, sit down. I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Jonathan Bashford. My partner Calvin Seitz and I run Horizontal," he gestured to nothing in particular, "a under nineteen club for homosexual children." He spoke quickly but with accurate precision. He looked at me to introduce myself.  
  
"Um.........my name is Nathaniel Hunter. My friends call me Kid Blink, or 'Blink' for short. I need a job," I paused momentarily, "please."  
  
"You don't mind working at a gay club?" he raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
I decided this was as good a time as any to tell someone, "I kissed my best friend. A boy. I'm just trying to get some space for a while. Y'know, until people get used to it."  
  
He nodded, showing he understood what I meant, "what do you know about lighting?"  
  
"OK Blink," Jonathan knocked on the door to a room above Horizontal, "this is your room. You'll be sharing it with another boy named Aaron Sullivan or 'Swifty'. He works behind the bar three days a week. You should talk to him, he had almost the same problem as you."  
  
The door cracked open, "oh, hi Jonathan. What's up?" asked a voice from inside.  
  
Jonathan sighed, "open the door Swifty, I've gotten you a roommate."  
  
Swifty laughed almost nervously, "Jon, I've got company." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.  
  
I thought: am I going to be roommates with a player?  
  
"Then tell him to put his clothes on and he can come meet him as well." Jonathan looked very impatient. I felt like I was butting in.  
  
Swifty opened the door all the way. Sitting at the kitchen table was a short, very familiar looking boy with a math textbook and a pencil.  
  
"Nice company Swifty," grinned Jonathan smugly, stepping inside, "this is Nathaniel Hunter. He's going to be working with Puma on lighting. He's your new roommate," he turned to me, "and this is Aaron Sullivan, as I told you, he works behind the bar. A few things for you to know, Saturday is boys night, and Friday is girls night. Every other night is co-ed. You should be relatively silent between two am and six-thirty every day. You may use the telephone for local calls but no long distance. Meals are not provided if you are accepting board, nor are paycheques. Please ask if you have any more questions." he ran his line over very smoothly, smiled, and left.  
  
"So.........I guess I'd better be going," Swifty's friend snapped his textbook shut and shoved it into his bag.  
  
"Sorry to interrupt you guys. I can leave for a while if you want." Why am I apologizing again?  
  
"It's no problem," Swifty gestured to the boy, "this is Boots, he's my tutor."  
  
Boots smiled and shouldered his backpack, "I'd better be going. Same time tomorrow Swifty?"  
  
Swifty perked up noticeably and nodded, "see you."  
  
I stood in the corner while they said good-bye. When Swifty was done and had shut the door he turned to me. "No offence, but maybe you should take a shower."  
  
Now that I was inside and the smell was restricted to a certain area I could tell that he was right, I reeked.  
  
"Yeah, is there a towel I can use? And soap?"  
  
Swifty directed me to a sparse linen closet and told me that I could use his soap and shampoo for now.  
  
"So what's up with you?" Swifty asked when I sat down on the bed he had made me by stacking a bunch old mattresses on top of each other.  
  
"I kissed my best friend. He had whipped cream in his mouth." Did that sound as stupid as I think it did?  
  
But Swifty nodded knowingly, "so you've been to Horizontal before than?"  
  
"No," I shook my head, "I don't even know if I am gay. It was just a spur- of-the-moment thing. You can't just wake up one morning knowing." Although, oddly, that sounded exactly like what happened.  
  
"So how'd you get a job here then?" Swifty looked confused.  
  
"Jonathan saw me in the parking lot and I asked him for a job."  
  
"Oh, that works."  
  
"What's up with you?" I asked practically the same question he'd asked me.  
  
"My dad disowned me when he found out I was gay."  
  
"What about Boots? He can't just be a tutor," I teased.  
  
"How do you know that something's going on?"  
  
"I'm not slow Swifty, I can fit the pieces together, who refers to their tutor as 'company'? And I saw how happy you were when he said he'd be back tomorrow."  
  
Swifty moaned and fell into his bed, "am I that obvious?"  
  
"Definitely, so what's the story?" I was itching with curiosity now.  
  
"He's straight, he was here the other night with his friends. He really is tutoring me though," he insisted.  
  
Someone knocked at the door. Without waiting for an answer, a dark girl with tiny cornrows stuck her head into the doorway.  
  
"Are you Nathaniel?" she asked me.  
  
I nodded.  
  
"I'm Puma. We have to go set up now. It's about time I got some help," she added to no one.  
  
I followed her outside and down the hall. I'd better get used to this, it could be my life for a while.  
  
A/n: who said the chapters were getting too short? Well I proved you WRONG! This is one longish chapter, if I do say so myself. I love Swifty! I love Blink! Who knew Horizontal would play such a key role in this fic? That's right, ME!  
  
On a completely different, unrelated note, I came into my room just now and it was FREEZING! Then I discovered that my window was open. Honestly, who leaves a window open in the middle of MAY? In Toronto it's not 'April showers bring May flowers', it's 'April showers bring May showers and lotsa cold'!!! Read and Review PLEASE! 


	28. Names, Dates, and BMWs

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
No reviews? What is this, what is this? I'm sad now.  
  
(Still Tuesday)  
  
Jack's PoV  
  
"What're you hanging around the house so much for?" my dad demanded from his Lay-Z-Boy recliner in front of the TV, "why don't you go over to your little girlfriend's place for a while?"  
  
"I'm not allowed, her parents won't let me."  
  
He laughed roughly, "what, did they catch you........." he trailed off but I know exactly what he meant. I didn't answer.  
  
"You let them catch you?" here comes the lesson on sneaking-around-parent's- backs, "Listen here boy, no child under the name of Sullivan has ever—"  
  
"My name's Kelly."  
  
He stopped mid-because, "no. That's your mother's name. You're effing Jack Francais Sullivan. My fuckin' son."  
  
I scoffed, "what, so all Sullivans are destined for greatness?"  
  
He nodded angrily, "that's right! You are the first to disgrace this name."  
  
"What about Aaron?"  
  
"Who?" I was used to this. As far as my father was concerned, he only had one son, me. And I was pretty close to losing that privilege as well.  
  
"Aaron, your other son. The one you had with Lydia........."  
  
"That boy has no right to use this name," this coming from an unemployed, alcoholic, drug-addict, "it was dropped when he left," so what, he's like Madonna or Cher? "Such a thing he has done that does not make him worthy of the name Sullivan.' This must be the easiest club to get into.  
  
I only have one question, what do I have to do to drop the name?  
  
Snitch's PoV  
  
"Allen, I need you to—"  
  
Watch Timothy I mouthed as she said it.  
  
She left before I could answer.  
  
"Mo-om! My name's Snipeshooter!" he yelled at the closed door.  
  
"She can't hear you, she's left already." I turned to where he stood across the apartment, "what do you want to do?"  
  
"Can Tumbler come over to play?" Snipeshooter didn't hesitate to ask. Tumbler is the kid who lives across the hall. He lives with his mom on the weekdays (across the hall) and his dad on weekends (across the city). I don't like him much; he's quite stuck-up just because he's modelled for Gap. He's a friggin Gap poster boy, what's there to be so proud of?  
  
"Whatever, just don't go in my room."  
  
In a gust of wind Snipeshooter was out the door. The phone rang.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey Snitch! It's Specs!"  
  
"What's up? You sound a lot more cheerful."  
  
"Yeah, I've got a date." He was beaming. The sunshine was pouring out my end of the telephone.  
  
"With who?" I prodded. Specs sure bounces back fast.  
  
"That doesn't matter. How should I get ready?" what does he mean 'it doesn't matter'?  
  
"What do you mean 'it doesn't matter'? Who is she?"  
  
"Dutchy, but about getting ready—"  
  
Hold it! Rewind, "Dutchy who?" I only knew one 'Dutchy'.  
  
"Dutchy as in John Dutchyshen, goes to our school, but should I—"  
  
"From the play?" that Dutchy's a guy.........  
  
"Uh huh, but can we please get back to—"  
  
"You're gay?"  
  
"Snitch, it's not that big of a deal, he was always a really good friend. I—"  
  
"Don't give me that! How did you know? When did you know? You used to date Spring. She's a she."  
  
"Look, Snitch, I don't know if I'm even 100% gay. Maybe I'm just bisexual or something. Just don't make a big deal out of it. I just need you to be a good friend."  
  
"Are you sure? I have an uncle who's gay. Actually, two uncles because he got married. They went to Canada, it's legal in Ontario and that's just over the border."  
  
"Really?" Dutchy, amazingly, sounded interested.  
  
"Yeah, but you don't think you'll........."  
  
"Snitch, I just want to get through this date unscathed."  
  
"Right, sorry, back to the date."  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
"So I was thinkin' baby, you, me, and a couple of cans of whipped cream........."  
  
Her voice came through all tinny, "sir, I just wanted to know if you wanted fries with that. I'm going to have to call my supervisor if this continues."  
  
Itey and I howled with laughter and high-tailed it out of the McDonalds drive-thru. I was starting to be quite happy that Itey had appeared from the distant land of Chicago. Bumlets was spending a lot more tome with his new girlfriend, at least this way I have someone to hang out with. Last time I wasn't hanging out with Bumlets was when he and Snoddy got in a fight back in ninth grade. Over something stupid, I think it was because Snoddy called Bumlets a coward on some level because he wouldn't hang Mr Pulitzer's—the principal—underwear up the flagpole. I got mad at him because he knows I'm like a part of their family. Mr Martin was always there for me when my dad was off doing something. That was about always. But now I have Itey.  
  
We continued laughing uncontrollably until we turned into my driveway. That's when I stopped but Itey continued.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked me after a few seconds of unaccompanied laughter.  
  
I just shook my head and stared at the very nice BMW Z5 convertible sitting in our driveway.  
  
"Whose is that?" Itey looked uncharacteristically concerned.  
  
"I think.........I think my brother's here."  
  
A/n: ooh! The cliff-hanger! I love these...but strangely hate them at the same time...don't worry, I'll update tomorrow and you won't be left hanging. R&R! 


	29. Brothers and Fathers

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Jacky Higgins- yeah, my aunt has some gay friends. She marched in the Gay Pride Parade in Toronto.  
  
Strawberri Shake- OK, this stuff I won't keep you in suspense about (I didn't use 'suspense' correctly, did I?) Aaron, as said before, is Swifty (Aaron Sullivan? See chapter 27, I think) and Itey's brother is named Isaac. He doesn't have a big part, it just seemed right that Itey had a big family. The whole Swifty/Jack thing was explained in chapter 27 except I neglected to say that he was Jack's brother. I will later.  
  
(Still Tuesday)  
  
Racetracks PoV  
  
I raised my hand to open the door. I touched the doorknob and thought better of it.  
  
"Are we going in?" I jumped. I'd almost forgotten Itey was standing beside me.  
  
"Um.........yeah," my palms were growing sweaty, "let-let's go." I tried to turn the knob but my hand slipped. My attempt failed.  
  
"Let me help you." Itey pulled the door open, shooting me a look that clearly read 'what's wrong with you?'  
  
He stepped into the house before me. This time, he was the one who called my mom.  
  
"Mrs Higgins? We're home!" surprisingly, my dad appeared at the top of the steps.  
  
"Dad?" I gasped, almost choking in disbelief at seeing him home before nine pm.  
  
"Hello Anthony, and who is this?"  
  
I didn't answer so Itey took over, "Vincent Tadesco sir. Nice to meet you."  
  
"Ah yes," my father was as calm and composed as ever, "Maria's son? I've heard all about you from your mother."  
  
Itey smiled, shot me the same 'what's wrong with you?' look as before, and asked my dad about his all time favourite topic: himself.  
  
My dad answered gracefully before asking Itey to excuse us.  
  
"Sure. Race I'll wait in your room, OK?"  
  
I nodded dumbly. Itey trudged up the steps to my room. My father watched him go.  
  
Once Itey was out of hearing-range he said, "nice boy, that Vincent Tadesco. He's very friendly, very polite."  
  
"Why are you home so early?" I demanded.  
  
He brushed of my rudeness, "thought I'd spend some time with my family."  
  
This was the first time he'd be taking a day off work since his wedding.  
  
"That's new," I muttered. Frankly, I was impressed that he could remember my name. Or where we lived. His smile only grew wider. "So where is he?" I asked.  
  
He blinked innocently, "who?"  
  
"Michael. Where's Michael?" this was crap. He wanted to talk to me. Why was he dancing around the topic?  
  
"Michael is upstairs unpacking his things." How can he be so calm about this? Did he even know that Michael had ever moved out? He didn't take a friggin' vacation.  
  
"And........." my voice was getting higher, "what's he doing here?" I was growing louder, "WHAT IS HE DOING HERE?"  
  
"Anthony," his smile was bitter now, "please keep your voice down. There is no need to yell like that."  
  
Why not? Oh! That's right, you were never home enough to know about how mom used to cry after he left. You weren't there to hear how she cried for you either. You weren't here for anything. I really wanted to yell that at him but I bit my tongue until it hurt.  
  
"How can you—how can you just let him come back in like that? He left and ruined.........he left and ruined everything! He hasn't had a job—let alone a steady one—for three years! He dropped out of high school! He calls you when he needs money and you'll just cough it up whenever he asks for it? Even after he threw away his future? Why don't you care? Am I the only reasonable one here?" I stared at him in disbelief; everything I'd ever wanted to yell at my brother was coming out now.  
  
"Anthony, didn't even say hello to me when you got home?" came a voice from the hallway overlooking the foyer. Michael stood above us. His straight brown hair was rumpled and strewn every which way and he was shining his glasses on his untucked golf t-shirt. He smiled sleepily and put his glasses back on. He was really quite handsome I guess like my dad. Most people would think he's really distinguished but in reality he's slime.  
  
"Hello Michael," I spat. I didn't care if he knew I wasn't pleased to see him, "back to mooch something else? What, the condo and sports car wasn't enough? Need Dad to buy you something more?"  
  
He did that weird calm thing that my dad does.  
  
"Anthony,' my father's nostrils flared, "go upstairs now. We'll talk later about this. Send Vincent down, I'll call a cab to take him home."  
  
I didn't make excuses, just stormed noisily up the stairs. How could he just come in and everyone acts like it's OK?  
  
A/n: sigh whatever will become of poor Racetrack? Has his brother come to ruin his life? Just about! R&R! 


	30. Discussion Over Burgers

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- fine, but you be lucky I'm nice. I get him on my birthday, OK...dammit, it passed a month ago...I better get him back tomorrow!!! When you said 'hairs' I thought 'Hair' for a second. hums 'Hair soundtrack I love Hair. But I love Newsies and CAMP more...  
  
Strawberri Shake- I write a lot of dysfunctional fathers. I'm setting a trend...but my dad is great, so it's not some inner psychological thing. I like clearing things up! If you have any more questions, ask me, please!!!  
  
(Wednesday)  
  
Mush's PoV  
  
"Wait! Wait! Slow down, Dutchy, slow down!"  
  
"It's not him Mush."  
  
"Yes it is! Yes it is!" I pointed out the window excitedly.  
  
"No, it's not. We've passed that guy three times and every time you've gotten me to slow down so you can check. It's not him."  
  
I swivelled in my seat as we passed and caught sight of his face proving that it wasn't Blink.  
  
Dutchy pulled into an old diner.  
  
"What are you doing?" I panicked slightly.  
  
"I'm taking a break. Mush, we've been driving around since rehearsal ended at five. I'm hungry and I need a rest."  
  
How can he think about taking a break right now? "Blink is hungry and thirsty too! He's been on the streets since Sunday! Dutchy, I have to find him!"  
  
By this time Dutchy and I had already entered the diner.  
  
"He's probably dead in the streets or in prison for.........for stealing food! Blink can't survive on the streets alone! He lacks the proper survival skills! I don't think he does very well all alone in the big city! It's rough out there Dutchy! Very rough!" I imagined Blink getting mugged by four burly men.  
  
Dutchy ordered from the waitress, appearing to never have heard me.  
  
"Mush," he finally turned to me. "At least tell me why Blink is gone. You owe me that much if you expect me to sacrifice my time and energy to drive around and look for him."  
  
"He ran away from my house."  
  
"I got that much, why'd he run away?"  
  
"I don't remember," I lied. I'm not supposed to remember, but I can. It's all too vivid, it's like he's kissing me right now.  
  
"Of course you can remember. It was barely three days ago. I can go home, because despite what you say Blink is a smart kid. He'll find a shelter for the night or at least a warm porch step. He can take care of himself."  
  
I stared at him. Blink needs us, he needs to go home and get a good nights rest and we'll meet at school like nothing happened and everything will be OK again. I can't even pretend like everything's OK because he's not there to pretend with me.  
  
"I told you, I don't remember."  
  
"Fine," Dutchy stood up, "then there's no point in me hanging around. I'm going home." He headed for the door. That's when I realized that he'd probably really leave.  
  
So I told him. "He kissed me. Blink kissed me." It was better telling someone than letting Blink parish on the streets alone.  
  
Dutchy turned and smiled. "Seriously?" he sat back down.  
  
I nodded meekly.  
  
He grinned wider, "you're not joking, are you?"  
  
I shook my head, what's the use in lying?  
  
His food arrived.  
  
"I'll let you in on a secret," he leaned over, "I've got a date with Specs." He watched my expression as he took a huge bite of his hamburger.  
  
A/n: I love how they share all their dating information!!! To bad that Mush is creeped out by the whole thing...yeah, that really is unfortunate...read and review anyways!!! 


	31. Riding at Wilder

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- you should know by now that I post EVERY DAY! But thanks for Itey back, I missed him. huggles Itey I haven't seen Ven Helsing, but I want to. Did you make Itey jealous when you said Hugh was cute? Don't do that! Poor Itey!  
  
Strawberri Shake just today my English teacher said 'I need you to all pick a classic novel to read by Monday'. Then I went 'TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD!!!' And Rat said 'I love that book'. Now we're working on an English project together. frowns But TKAMB is still the BEST!  
  
(Thursday)  
  
Jack's PoV  
  
Four fifteen, fifteen minutes to spare. I ran through the gates of Wilder Stables. I'm 'tardy' for school constantly, never on time for set painting, can't stand to be early for guitar lessons, but the one thing I'm never late for is Wilder.  
  
"On time as always Jack," smiled another instructor, Hoot, as I rushed past.  
  
"Can't stand to be late." I didn't pause and bee-lined straight for the staff room.  
  
Wilder is the only place I am really comfortable being. My mom used to ride. She had a very big say on the board and got me hooked on riding, now I instruct.  
  
"Jack, new classes today." Arrow flourished a sheet in my direction.  
  
I read it over, most of the names were familiar and that's because I teach an advanced class so usually the kids have been riding at Wilder for a while.  
  
"Any new kids?" Arrow was clutching a mug of coffee.  
  
"A few," I scanned the sheet again, "thanks Arrow." I grabbed a danish from the box someone had brought and dashed back out the door.  
  
I was waiting in the main stable for ten minutes before people finally started showing up. The last kid to arrive was a new one. He was wearing the whole 1930s rider getup and everything. His hair was slicked back and he would be put off as very preppy if it wasn't for his two lip piercings and multiple earrings.  
  
"Name?" I asked, smiling slightly.  
  
"Anthony Higgins." He scowled deeply.  
  
Everybody introduced themselves.  
  
"First I have to teach you all how to saddle up your horses and muck out stalls—"  
  
Everyone moaned.  
  
"A drag, I know, but it's mandatory that everyone knows how and what they're dong."  
  
So everyone got underway and I assigned them each a horse to saddle and a stall to muck out. Thirty minutes in and the only one not doing anything was Anthony. He was standing back observing his horse.  
  
"Hmm, thoroughbred, both mother and father obviously. Fantastic breeding. Very fast, but not a very good long distance horse by the look of his stomach and neck," I heard him mutter.  
  
"Sounds like you now a lot about horses." I walked over.  
  
He looked at me, lip rings glinting, "my dad races horses."  
  
I raised my eyebrows in amazement, "your dad owns horses?"  
  
He laughed and stared at me in disbelief, "my dad is Andrew Higgins. He owns everything."  
  
Then he finally turned to the horse and saddled him quickly and efficiently. This kid was out there.  
  
"Hard day Jack?" Arrow sat down on one of the Salvation Army worthy couches across from me.  
  
"Best day all week." I looked up from the newspaper word jumble.  
  
"What's wrong Sunshine? Trouble in paradise?"  
  
I rubbed my eyebrows and laughed good-naturedly, "You could say that. Sarah's parents won't let me see her anymore."  
  
"Oh, too bad." Arrow didn't sound too genuine, but that's because she and Sarah don't get along too well. Sarah, to be honest, wasn't very nice to the people at Wilder. She doesn't see the thrill in riding a horse around, she thinks we're wasting our time, and makes it quite clear.  
  
So I told Arrow what happened, and slowly reality came back to me with every word. The truth was hitting me. It was like being slapped violently across the face again and again.  
  
"So I guess it's over?" I don't even know how to describe the sound of Arrow's voice.  
  
I shrugged. "On the bright side, I'm finally free of her little brother."  
  
A/n: newspaper word jumbles are my quick fix for story ideas. 'Turn to The Word Jumble' when you need help! Woo Hoo! The word jumble fixes writer's block, serious! R&R!!! 


	32. Lisps

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- he was ASLEEP??? What did you do, drug him? THAT'S IT!!! DRUGS!  
Itey: she didn't drug me...  
Buttons: sure she didn't, don't stand up for her!  
Itey: uh, I'm just telling the truth.  
Buttons: upset just go twiddle your suspenders!  
Itey- shrug  
Anyways, Jack at a...crucial moment in his life as a teenager. He needs some time to sort out his feelings and see where he stands with everything. He'll come around, I hope. That part isn't even planned yet.  
  
Strawberri Shake- how do you know I'm not actually your English teacher? Muah ha ha! OK, seriously now, I'm not. It is a coincidence; it's a heap of luck and good guesses. I'm actually doing To Kill a Mockingbird also, but we got to choose what classic to do.  
  
(Still Thursday)  
  
Skittery's PoV  
  
Bradley called me today! Yes! He called me! Bradley who? you ask. Bradley, as in Guy-Who-Asked-Me-To-Dance, Bradley! So he called me and I picked up and nearly dropped the phone in surprise when he told me who it was.  
  
"Hello? Brad? I'm so sorry," I gasped, after supporting the receiver once again.  
  
"No problem," he laughed, "are you OK?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. So, why'd you call?" I was blushing.  
  
"Just to talk. I realized I don't know anything about you." That sounded about right. Other than his name and phone number I didn't know much about him. Oh, and that he's a good dancer.  
  
"Uh, OK, so how do we start?" I was never very good at these 'getting to know you' exercises.  
  
"Well, my name is Bradley Martin. My nickname is Snoddy. I'm eighteen and in grade twelve. My mom owns a diner and my dad is a banker in Manhattan. I have only one sister and she's eleven. She's really smart, she gets straight As and she's won all these contests for her writing. My dad is the greatest. He always works when he has to but always finds time to spend with Elizabeth—my sister—and me." He stopped, making it sound very final.  
  
"Wh-what about your mom?" I didn't know if he wanted me to ask or not.  
  
"Oh, she's OK. She's kind of cold to me to tell you the truth. She'd like you though. She always likes my friends better than me." He cleared his throat uncomfortably, "so, how 'bout you?"  
  
"Well, my name's William Jones, or Skittery. I'm seventeen and in grade eleven. My mom doesn't work and my dad owns a shipping company out of New York harbour. I have one sister too," I smiled thinking about her, "she's older though, she's already married. Her name's Christina and she's got a daughter named Julia—"  
  
"You're an uncle?" he sounded amused.  
  
"Yeah, Julia's only two-years-old........."  
  
"William! Get off the phone please! Your father needs to call the office!" my mom called from downstairs.  
  
"Listen, Snoddy, I have to go. My dad needs to use the phone."  
  
"OK, see you Skittery Jones," I smiled and began to lower the receiver, "and.........do you want to go out sometime?"  
  
I bit my lip to keep back giddy laughter, "I'd love to."  
  
David's PoV  
  
Sarah is moping around the house. She keeps grumbling and muttering under her breath. I am constantly hearing snatches of these mutterings and they always contain the word 'Jack'.  
  
I rolled my eyes when she scuffled back through the room mumbling loudly.  
  
"Where's Jack now Sister Bear?" I grinned as she collapsed into an armchair.  
  
"Shut up David," she hurled a pillow at me (the same one I suffocated Les with), "go kiss your boyfriend."  
  
Did everyone know I was gay? "How do you know that?" I gasped.  
  
"No offence David, but you're getting one of those fag lisps," she was snickering, "and only the really gay guys get one.........what're they called again? Flamers? So I just figured that you must be gay and you might have a boyfriend." She shrugged and sniffed loudly and dramatically.  
  
I whipped the pillow back at her and trudged to my room. If even my stupid sister could figure it out, who else knows?  
  
A/n: and there you have it readers! Skittery and SNODDY! Who would've thunk it? Not me, serious, it was supposed to be Snitch but SparkS said 'HEY that was MY idea, making Snitch and Bumlets hate each other!' (see chapter one and three (I think it's three)) so I had to use Snoddy. Oh well, it's sweet nonetheless. R&R people! 


	33. Mountie

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- too bad about your teacher, my English teacher is AWESOME! I love English, I think I'll speak it for the rest of my life...  
  
(Friday)  
  
Itey's PoV  
  
Racetrack called me early this morning to tell me he wouldn't be driving me this morning. Ever since his dad (who didn't seem too bad) and his brother (who I didn't meet) arrived out of nowhere he hasn't been at school. Apparently, his dad made him go to horseback riding lessons and today they're going out for a family brunch.  
  
His brother wears his underwear around the house and swears at his mom.  
  
I can't judge for sure, but Race is the nicest, richest kid I've ever known, but he has an uber-dysfunctional family.  
  
His dad is suddenly trying so hard to act like a caring family man. I don't know who he's trying to prove anything to, I'm sure Race's brother is used to him in the seemingly uncaring way he's been doing things so far. It just seems so.........so dishonest.  
  
I wish Racetrack would tell me what's going on in his house but I guess that's a bit much to expect. We haven't known each other for even two weeks, maybe he doesn't think we're good enough friends.  
  
So instead I took the bus to school and I've decided that taking the bus is the best way to meet people. I saw three people at the bus stop alone.  
  
"Hello." I said.  
  
Two of them nodded and the other—a girl—turned to face me, "oh, hi. Are you new here?"  
  
I didn't answer immediately, I was shocked to notice that she was wearing a Korn t-shirt. That's when I noticed she was also wearing wide, straight- legged pants, a chain necklace to which dozens of guitar picks were attached, a spiky leather watch, and several thin, black bracelets. Her hair was really long and dirty blonde, she had pulled it back into a braid, revealing her ear piercings.  
  
"Well?" she fought to make eye contact, "are you?"  
  
"Oh, uh, my ride couldn't make it so I'm here."  
  
She smiled and we looked at each other for a while. It was really obvious that she was a heavy metal 'follower', but it looked like she'd mixed some Goth in with it. I don't know how to describe it because she wasn't outwardly Gothic. I mean she was wearing a bit of eyeliner, but not a lot so that she looked tired or anything. It was cool; maybe it was natural or something.  
  
"So," we were still smiling, "you like Korn?"  
  
"Yeah," she beamed, "they're from my home town." She smiled even wider and looked down at her shirt, as if seeing it for the first time.  
  
"You're Canadian?" I blinked. I don't think I know any Canadians.  
  
"I'm Canadian," she confirmed, "and I'm Mountie." She offered her platinum- ringed hand.  
  
"I'm Itey." We smiled a bit more. Then the bus came so we got on.  
  
"What's a 'Mountie'?" it sounded familiar, "or who.........I mean, other than you."  
  
She laughed, "'Mountie' is the short form for the RCMP—Royal Canadian Mounted Police. People in the US think that everyone in Canada are either Mounties of lumberjacks. And I'm not strong enough to be a lumberjack so people think I'm a Mountie. Where'd you get your name?"  
  
I gestured at myself. "I'm Italian."  
  
"Oh," she looked at me, "I guess you are." She smiled. This girl sure does smile a lot. Not that it's a bad thing; I think she must've worn braces at some time because her teeth are really straight. Mountie is the nicest girl I've met since coming to New York.  
  
The bus stopped and we got off.  
  
"Can I eat with you at lunch?" she called as I walked away.  
  
"Sure," I grinned, "bring your friends too." Bumlets was probably going to be eating lunch with Spring.  
  
She looked a little ashamed. "There aren't many heavy metal fans at this school. You're one of the few people like me I know. And no girls like Korn, that's for sure."  
  
"OK, then it'll just be you and me."  
  
She agreed, "you and me. I'll see you later."  
  
A/n: introducing, MOUNTIE!!! She's the metal expert behind the fic, I owe my minimal expertise to her. R&R or you'll hurt poor Mountie's feelings! 


	34. Wallet Photos

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- STOP DRUGGING MY ITEY! HE'LL GET SICK! I don't think I'll ever have children also, maybe I'll adopt, it's the actual childbirth thing that scares me. Friday's here. Too bad.  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
Boot's PoV  
  
_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!_ I ran through the school doors just as the late bell was ringing. I sped, full-tilt, down the waxed floor, sliding as I turned corners. I knew immediately that there was no time to stop at my locker.  
  
And so far I was very lucky; I hadn't run into a single teacher or member of faculty, and hopefully my luck would stay and my homeroom teacher would be late.  
  
So I was still running, telling myself: one more corner, just one more corner. When I finally reached that last corner I ran right into another kid. For a moment we disappeared in a flurry of papers. When everything had settled, his backpack—which had obviously been opened—was lying across the hallway, all of his textbooks scattered around. My book bag had flown open and my math type-up had flown up in the air and was lying out of order around the hall.  
  
I jumped up really quickly and scrambled to collect my papers.  
  
"I'm so sorry!" I grabbed a crumpled paper from the corner, "I'm really, really sorry."  
  
He pulled his backpack towards him. "It's no problem, I'm just going to be so late now."  
  
I had collected most of my papers by now and groped for the last pile. A brown leather wallet fell out and opened, showing off dozens of photographs of people I could only imagine were his family. His mom, his dad, his younger brother, his older sister, his golden retriever and him, and a boy—probably the only non-member of his family—who was wearing an eye patch, grinning widely, and squinting into the sun.  
  
"Is this yours?" I snapped the wallet shut and held it up.  
  
"Yeah, thanks." He reached for it.  
  
I shouldered my book bag, dusted myself off, and turned to leave.  
  
"Late bell was five minutes ago boys. That means detention." We were delayed three minutes longer as Coach Snyder wrote us up detention slips.

I might sound goody-goody for admitting this, but I've never been in detention. And here I am sitting in a very gloomy classroom, fiddling with a pen, and waiting for my half-hour to be up.  
  
The room is only a quarter full and I'm finding it funny that I can be on time for the detention I got for being late. The door is opening and the kid I ran into in the hall hands his detention slip to the teacher in charge. He sits down next to me.  
  
"Hi," he whispers, "I'm Mush. Sorry about getting you into this mess."  
  
"It's not your fault, I would have been late anyways," I whisper back.  
  
The teacher glares at us and I decide to wait until later to talk to Mush.  
  
The 30 minutes drag by very slowly and I've made a dull, monotonous rhythm of tapping my pen on the edge of my desk. The teacher looks up and glares when I do this but I figure that I shouldn't care because she's glaring at everyone.  
  
Finally she lets us go and I meet Mush in the hall.  
  
"I'm Boots," I say.  
  
He smiles, "hi. I hope this detention didn't.........inconvenience you in any way."  
  
I feel bad that he's apologizing to me, "I told you, it's not your fault; I would have been late anyways."  
  
He looks very tired, and I realize that, although he's smiling, it's a stressed and sad smile.  
  
"Are you.........are you OK?" I don't know if I know him well enough to be asking this.  
  
He looks a little awkward, "actually, my best friend ran away from my house this weekend. I don't know where he is and his parents are coming back tonight. I'm worried about what I'll tell them." Mush slumps down the locker and sits on the floor.  
  
"Is he the boy with the eye patch? The one whose picture you have in your wallet?" I ask.  
  
He nods and rubs his face, exhausted.  
  
"I-I think I know where he is."  
  
A/n: hah, heh, heh! Boots knows where Blink is! Oh happy day for Mush! But, what will Blink say when Mush finds him? R&R and tell me your predictions! 


	35. Arrow

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- that sounds like the same one. The other day at soccer practice my friend was singing CAMP. Go to their website and take the 'which camper are you?' quiz. I'm not sure if that's what it's called, something along those lines.  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
Jack's PoV  
  
I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down across the table from Arrow. I've been spending all of my spare time at Wilder because my house is hell and my dad keeps asking me about Sarah. I think he's forgotten that I'm not allowed to see her.  
  
Arrow smiles, purely in a friendly nature. "How are things going with Sarah?"  
  
I guess I really looked miserable because Arrow sounded very sincere considering how much she hates Sarah. "No better than before. I see her at school but she seems content not to talk to me," I smile bitterly, "I think her parents have set her on the path to becoming a 'good girl'."  
  
"What's wrong with being a good girl?" exclaimed Arrow innocently.  
  
I realized that Arrow is the definition of 'good girl'. She's sitting across from me drinking a bottle of Dasani, her light brown hair in braided ponytails, wearing slightly flared, distressed jeans, a brown leather belt, and a green square-necked striped t-shirt. Surprisingly, this wasn't a sickening breed of 'good girl', just a little sweeter than your average girl.  
  
"There's nothing wrong with being a good girl.........I mean, I like—good girls are.........there's nothing wrong with........." I flustered and I could feel myself blushing. I never blush.  
  
"Don't worry Jack. I was just joking," she smiled, "besides, I think they're turning you into a good boy."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"You've been to school every day this week. I'd say that's a pretty big step for you."  
  
I glared. "I'm not a 'good boy'. Going to school does not qualify me as a 'good boy'."  
  
"You don't know that. Soon you'll be tempted to wear plaid and help old ladies cross the street." She laughed.  
  
I glared some more.  
  
"But honestly," she grew more serious, "their refusing to allow you to see her has caused you to subconsciously conform to the expected appearance and behaviour of guys your age. It won't happen immediately, but you are slowly becoming good. I think it's an attempt to win Sarah. I call it the Sandy and Danny method. Both sides are changing for each other."  
  
Arrow is really smart. She's the only person who could have said something like that without confusing me.  
  
She blinked slowly, watching as I thought about this.  
  
I grinned. "Maybe, but I'll never wear plaid."  
  
She gave me a quiet, half smile. If a smile could be quiet, that one definitely was; like the Mona Lisa. "Jack?" she said nearly silently. Everything she was doing was quiet today. "I really like you." Her face flushed.  
  
"Arrow?" I said after a pause. She looked up. "I really like you too," I had entirely forgotten about Sarah. "Would you like to go out some time?" at that moment I lost all love I once possessed for Sarah. I didn't even feel guilt. Arrow has a way of doing that.  
  
Mush's PoV  
  
"You know where he is? You know where Blink is?" I stood up quickly.  
  
Boots nodded. "I tutor his new room mate, Swifty."  
  
"Where is he? Where. Is. He?" I demanded.  
  
"He's living above a........." he trailed off. I shot him a look. "Above a club called Horizontal. I could—I could take you there?"  
  
It was like he was asking me. "Of course you can! Please take me! When are you going?"  
  
Boots checked his watch. "10 minutes ago."  
  
Boots knocked on the front door. A tall, slim boy in a red hat opened it.  
  
"You're late! Where were you?" he asked, but not in an exceptionally demanding tone.  
  
"Sorry," Boots stepped in the door, "I got detention."  
  
The boy—who I could only assume was Swifty—laughed and shut the door behind us.  
  
"Who's this?" he asked happily.  
  
"This is Mush," Swifty and I shook hands, "he's Blink's best friend."  
  
I swear I saw Swifty stiffen. "Oh, the best friend," he said coldly, "I'll get Blink for you."  
  
He left and Boots sat down at the kitchen table and set up his books.  
  
Seconds later, Swifty returned with Blink right behind him.  
  
"What do you want Boots?" he asked, clearly annoyed, "I was halfway through helping Puma set up."  
  
Boots cleared his throat apologetically. "I brought someone to see you."  
  
But he'd already spotted me and snapped him mouth shut in surprise.  
  
Now was as good a time as ever, I decided "hi, Blink? Can we—can we talk about what happened?"  
  
A/n: I'm a little sad today, so there won't be a long author's note. R&R. 


	36. Forced Brunch and Forced Kisses

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- I don't think fun, flamboyant Spitzer is an option. You have to go to google and search CAMP. One of the thingies will say 'the official CAMP website'. That's it. I love Spitzer!!!  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
"Pass the cantaloupe," asked Michael, purely to sound polite because just seconds later he lunged lazily across the table and picked up the bowl.  
  
"Isn't this _lovely_?" My dad was a little too cheerful. "A nice family brunch? I'm so happy I could get away from work. We don't spend enough time together." My dad shouldn't smile; it makes him look like he's barring his teeth.  
  
But seriously, who was he kidding? He was just trying to fool himself into believing that our family never fell apart. Everything in his life has to be a success. I hate Michael even more for giving my family this false hope. Before, I may not have had much of a father, but at least my mom and I had a steady rhythm. At least we actually knew that my father wouldn't be home at night.  
  
My mother smiled happily as she surveyed the table." Yes, we don't. This is a very nice brunch, we should do this more often."  
  
There was a slight clinking in the background of the sunny dining room. We were surrounded by dozens of tables filled with wealthy retirees, smart business people, and men and their mistresses. My dad was wearing his suit pants and a sport jacket, my mom wore a floral Marilyn Monroe-esque dress, Michael was wearing khakis and his infamous untucked golf t-shirt, and I was wearing almost the same thing as my rider getup, minus the jacket, but keeping the earrings. We looked like a cereal commercial family. Or even better, a cereal box family.  
  
Michael had finished emptying the bowl of cantaloupes onto his plate. He slurped as he lifted them to his mouth. People in the tables next to us were staring in disgust.  
  
"Shut up," I hissed, "be a little less rude, could you?"  
  
My mom pretended like she hadn't heard me because I knew she wanted to say the same thing. My dad just glared.  
  
Michael looked up at me and grinned evilly. "How're riding lessons going _Anthony_?"  
  
I didn't answer and my father cleared his throat deliberately. "I think it's about time to go now," he signalled for the bill, "you go to the car. I'll meet you outside."  
  
My mom stood up and put on her sweater, my brother followed her lead, and I slumped after them. We got into the elevator and Michael pressed P1. It stopped and Michael and my mom got out silently. I pressed the 'close door' button after them. I couldn't take this anymore; my entire family was lying so badly that they were starting to believe it themselves.  
  
Kid Blink's PoV  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?"  
  
Mush looked uncomfortable. The door swung shut softly behind me.  
  
"I—I came to—to find you," he stammered, "I needed to know where you were! I was worried! I have to talk to you. Please Blink, I have to talk to you about—"  
  
"We-ell," Swifty coughed loudly, "I think we should go down to the bar and help Jonathan with the.........uh.........let's go Boots."  
  
Boots and Swifty left quickly and I sat down at the kitchen table.  
  
"I'm not going back to your house Mush." I cleared Boots' books to the side of the table.  
  
"I just want to—"  
  
"Don't worry about me. My parents know where I am. I'll be at school starting next week. And I think you're right, we should act like it never happened. Like nothing ever happened. Like we never knew each other. I can't live so dishonestly, I can't pretend that something I don't want to forget never happened." There! I said it. I've been wrestling with how I really felt and I still didn't know until just then. I just felt like yelling something, anything. And that was the first thing that came to my mind.  
  
"Blink—"  
  
"Mush, go away."  
  
"Please, Blink—"  
  
"Now. Don't even act like.........like anything! Just go! Leave!"  
  
"Blink, I—"  
  
He stood up and I ignored him.  
  
"I'll just leave then," he said quietly. I got up to shut the door behind him.  
  
He smiled sadly. "You want to forget like this never happened?"  
  
This time he was the one who kissed me.  
  
A/n: this was really two chapters but I combined them so you'd all have more to read! So, to sum it up, Racetrack ran away and Mush kissed Blink. R&R! 


	37. The Magic of Hallways

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Fir3CatLOv3r- Jack huh? It isn't looking too good between them now, what with...everything and all. I guess you'll have to read and find out!  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
Swifty's PoV  
  
I was sitting in the hallway with Boots. We were right beside each other; his thigh was pressed against mine.  
  
"So.........you got detention?"  
  
He smiled meekly and nodded. "I was late for school.........that's where I met Mush. I, uh, bumped into his and spilt my books all over the floor."  
  
"How'd you know he knew Blink?"  
  
"I saw his wallet, his picture was in it.........Blink's, I mean." Boots sounded embarrassed. I ignored it.  
  
"He had a picture of Blink in his wallet?" Boots nodded. "This guy's got it bad." I laughed insanely.  
  
Boots looked confused.  
  
"Good Lord Boots! Mush is in love with Blink!"  
  
"Oh," Boots grinned, "I guess it wouldn't look good if I asked you for your picture to put in my wallet."  
  
I knew he was joking, but I blushed anyways.  
  
"I was just fooling with you Swifty........." he hesitated. "But how do you know? How did Blink know? How did you know?"  
  
I raised my eyebrows. "Questioning, are we?"  
  
Boots rubbed his head awkwardly. "Nah, I was just curious."  
  
"You really want to know? I can't really tell you how you'll know, you'll never know until someone comes along who you know you really love. You'll never know until someone shows you."  
  
And without thinking I leaned over and kissed him. He didn't push me away, but he didn't kiss me back either. It wasn't exactly how I imagined kissing Boots, it wasn't passionate or heated; it was just a kiss. Just a kiss on the lips with a boy I liked who didn't like me back. Maybe I didn't imagine us kissing like this because he always kissed me back.  
  
When I drew away we sat in silence for a long time.  
  
A/n: YEAH! Go Swifty! You da man!!!  
  
Alex: did you just say 'da'?  
  
Buttons: no, stupid, I typed it...  
  
Alex: whatever, you're weird.  
  
Buttons: R&R people! Tell me what you think of Swifty and Boots! 


	38. Tears and Pink

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- I love CAMP! And Spitzer! And Michael!!! Whoo hoo! Oh yeah, and Newsies...  
  
(Saturday)  
  
David's PoV  
  
"What are you crying about?"  
  
I stood in the door of Sarah's bedroom. She was blubbering, curled up in her bed, surrounded by tissues. Her blinds were shut and I'm pretty sure she hadn't moved since this morning when she woke up.  
  
"Go—go away David." She blew her nose.  
  
"If it's not bad enough that you'll tell me, then it's not bad enough to cry about."  
  
"Fine, you want to know? I went out to Jack's stupid stable thing because we can't see each other at school because you'll know and you're a damn nark and would tell Mom and Dad," I opened my mouth to protest, but thought better of it, "and we can't go on dates or come here because they're suspicious about everything now, and Jack never let me go to his house."  
  
"Getting to the problem soon........."  
  
"And I saw Jack at the stable—which smelt, by the way—and he was making a date with some weird stable girl. And he looked happy. David, he looked happy. How am I supposed to compete with that? He never looked that happy with me, and I pretty sure he wasn't high either. David, it's all coming apart, how could he move on so quickly? It's all coming apart!" she started sobbing loudly, neglecting the tears streaming down her face.  
  
We're not very good at being a compassionate family, but I've seen enough movies to know what I should do. I sat down at the side of her bad and held Sarah close, in what I hoped was a comforting, brotherly hug. She melted into me and continued crying, only softer now.  
  
"Oh David, it's all coming apart. Everything's falling apart."  
  
And I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to feel. This is what I wanted, isn't it? A Sarah-free Jack? So why do I feel so miserable?  
  
Bumlets' PoV  
  
I was sitting on a giant, pink, cupcake-esque chair, waiting or Spring. She insists we go shopping, which is really her trying on dozens of outfits and me carrying her bags for her. She's bought me clothes too, but I can only wear them in an out of character sense with high confidence. For example, I'm wearing a short-sleeved polo shirt she's got me with my immensely baggy jeans, orange eyebrow rings, gelled Mohawk, and jet-black dog tags. She frowned very deeply when she saw how I'd combined her beautiful shirt, but didn't say anything.  
  
This store has a security guard and he's been standing at the entrance since we came in. I think he's suspicious of me, thinking that I'll probably steal something from this woman's clothing store, don't you know, not only am I a depressed 'punk' teenager, I'm also a closet transvestite. Honestly.  
  
So I glare at the wall, jutting out my bottom lip in what I hope is an apish fashion to freak the security guard out. It works, because he stiffens and makes it quite obvious that he's watching me.  
  
Outside the frosty pink window people were passing by, just coming from the cafeteria, eating corndogs and iced cream. Now I'm really hungry.  
  
You have to understand, I'm sitting on a cupcake, scowling at a frosty window, hungry beyond belief, wearing a polo shirt. I thought this day would never come: the day when I would allow a girl to boss me around.  
  
That's when I saw Itey walking outside with a tall girl.  
  
Sitting in a girly boutique is amazingly boring so I jumped at the opportunity to go talk to someone sane. I ran past the relieved security guard and into the mall.  
  
"Itey!" I called.  
  
He turned and smiled when he saw me. "Oh, hi Bumlets."  
  
Him and the girl stopped to talk. She smiled and introduced herself as Mountie. Itey was beaming.  
  
"So, why are you here?" Itey looked around me. Expecting to find a row of mini-Bumlets'?  
  
"Spring dragged me shopping." I rolled my eyes.  
  
Mountie laughed. "Where?"  
  
I reluctantly pointed to the sugary pink shop. Itey and Mountie laughed louder. Seconds later Spring appeared at the door of the store wearing a pink skirt and a pink sweater set. It was pathetic how much she matched the shop.  
  
"Bumlets!" she called.  
  
I said goodbye and went back to Spring. I heard Itey make a whip-cracking sound behind me.  
  
So I'm whipped, and Itey's already got a girlfriend-like girl. Oh, what a wonderful life.

A/n: whchu! he he he, Bums is whipped. R&R people! I need self-esteem!


	39. Date Preps and Facials

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- heh, heh, heh, I'm listening to CAMP right now, Here's Where I Stand. But Mountie is my friend and she agrees that if I ever really meet Itey I get him. She's not really a Newsies fan.  
  
(Sunday)  
  
Specs' PoV  
  
Snitch invited me over to prepare me for my 'date' with Dutchy. His brother was there (obviously) with his friend who is on the Gap posters. His name is Tumbler.  
  
Snitch doesn't know what is expected from a guy on a date with another guy, but he says it's probably the same thing. That means that (when the movie is off) I should keep the conversation flowing to avoid awkward silences. He also said not to wear too much cologne and to dress casual, but not sloppily, because that's a turn-off for everyone.  
  
"How do you know all this?" I asked him.  
  
He shrugged. "My mom is single. I help her with her love life because I want her to be happy. I do my research."  
  
"Research? What, do you read teen magazines and look up facial masks on the Internet?" I raise my eyebrows. He didn't answer. I burst out laughing.  
  
"Shut up." He frowned.  
  
"Oh Snitch, won't you give me a facial?"  
  
He glared.  
  
I bit my tongue. "Sorry, sorry. It's nice that you look out for you mom like that." It was, and I finally understood why he watched his brother so often without ever arguing. "Your family's really close, isn't it?"  
  
He nodded. "We try to make up for whatever left us." He sounded bitter.  
  
I was pretty sure he was fishing. "So, if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your dad anyways?"  
  
Snitch smiled sourly, "he left us when Snipeshooter was only four. He ran away with my mom's best friend. My mom was depressed and in rehab or a while, and Snipeshooter and I had to live with her parents. He doesn't pay child support or anything and my mom doesn't want to take it court because she thinks it'd be 'too much trouble'. She doesn't want to ever see him again and I don't exactly blame her."  
  
He paused. "What do you think?" I asked.  
  
"I kind of.........I kind of want him to come back. I want to talk to him. I want him to meet Snipeshooter, because he's a great kid. I want him to tell Mom that he's sorry and that he never meant to hurt her. I want us to be a family again." He looked ashamed.  
  
I wanted to say that I knew how he felt, but I didn't because I don't.  
  
Things were beginning to get uncomfortable when Snipeshooter and Tumbler came downstairs.  
  
"Hey, Specs, teach me to fight like you did the other day?"  
  
He and Tumbler grinned innocently. Snitch sent them back up to Snipeshooter's room.  
  
A/n: I love Snitch's family. They're so together, yay! R&R! 


	40. Home Sweet Home

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- I saw Hairspray today and Steven Cutts (who plays Shaun) was Gilbert in it. So cool! And everyone loves CAMP! They have to! And Newsies!  
  
Strawberri Shake- I have to admit that I get good math grades, but I HATE math. It's soooo boring. I think my friend, Mountie, also has that problem with adults. She's always all Gothed up and people assume she's trouble. She plays volleyball and five different instruments. (guitar, drums, sax, flute, piano...maybe something else, but I'm not sure.) Anyways, she's really smart and everything but people assume because of the way she dresses she's trouble.  
  
(Monday)  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
I knocked on the door to my sister's dorm room.  
  
She opened the door. "Anthony!" she shrilled, ushering me inside. "Is Mom here?" she looked around anxiously.  
  
"Mom's not here."  
  
Her face fell.  
  
My sister Catherine is—admittedly—gorgeous. She was frowning, but still looked beautiful. She has really thick, dark-brown hair and dark brown eyes. Her skin always looks soft and even, not at all matching the sallow complexion Michael, or even mine sometimes gets.  
  
"Dad?" she took a stab.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"Michael.........Thomas.........?" she named our tow brothers, starting to look worried.  
  
"No," I tried to sound light, "just me."  
  
"But.........why?"  
  
"I ran away," I mumbled.  
  
She looked like she really wanted someone to jump out from behind a door and yell 'SURPRISE!' or tell her that she was on a hidden camera show. Nobody did so she continued to look worried.  
  
"Anthony, why would you do that?"  
  
"Michael came back," I muttered, "and Dad started spending 'family time' with everyone and it was sickening. Catherine, they were lying. It was pathetic."  
  
She sighed, "when did you leave?"  
  
"Two days ago."  
  
I had stayed in motels the past two nights so her dorm room looked oddly comfortable.  
  
"Listen, Anthony, I'm not going to tell you to call them, because Lord knows I can't stand Dad, but I want you to think about it," said the only Higgins child whose future stood a fighting chance.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"I'll make you some coffee."  
  
She offered me a seat.  
  
Is it weird to feel at home in a place you've never been before than in the house you've lived all your life?  
  
A/n: oh the woes of Racetrack...but enough with that, here's why I updated a tad late:  
  
I went the see Hairspray in Toronto and then we went to Chinatown for dinner. I love Chinatown. Now it's late.  
  
R&R! 


	41. Pigeon's Hair Dye

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- he may have run away from home but his family's still stinkin' rich. He must have a platinum hiding somewhere...  
  
(Still Monday)  
  
Skittery's PoV  
  
"Pidge, why are you doing this?"  
  
"Huh? Hold still Hon." She dunked my head back into the sink.  
  
Pigeon found me today. I don't know how, but she just sort of gravitated toward me. It went something like this:  
  
"Hi! Are you Skittery?"  
  
"Unh hnnh.........why?"  
  
"I'm Pigeon! I'm going to be your friend!"  
  
"Um.........why?"  
  
"You are gay, right?"  
  
Nod.  
  
"Good, that's all I need to know."  
  
And then she linked arms with me and walked me to lunch.  
  
Now she's dying my hair, which I wouldn't exactly mind, except that she won't tell me what colour she's doing it.  
  
"Pidge, are you almost done?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses."  
  
"Is my scalp supposed to burn?"  
  
"No, why? Is it?"  
  
"Nah, I was just wondering."  
  
She poured an extra large bucket of water onto my hair. I shivered.  
  
"Pidge, what colour is my hair going to be?"  
  
She grinned madly but didn't answer.  
  
"Blonde?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Red?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Black?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Brown."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Pink?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you serious?" I jumped a little.  
  
"No. Skittery, just calm down. You'll see in a minute."  
  
She sat me up, wrapped a towel around my head, and turned me to face the mirror. She dried my hair with the towel and removed it to reveal platinum blonde.  
  
"You dyed my hair _BLONDE_???" I flipped.  
  
Pigeon giggled, "no silly. I had to bleach your hair before I could dye it. Settle down."  
  
She shoved me backward and slopped something cold and goopy onto my hair. When she finished she put a clear shower cap on my head, underneath the slop was green coloured and I only wished that my hair didn't turn that colour.  
  
We walked to your bedroom and sat across from each other on my bed.  
  
"Pidge, why do you like me?"  
  
"Gee, Skitts, what a question. You're a nice guy."  
  
I blinked at her. "That's not why."  
  
She grinned. "Sure it is."  
  
"Then why'd you ask if I was gay?"  
  
She blushed. "It sounds stupid, but I like gay boys. I like how they chose what they wanted and not what society expects of them," she paused, "and gay boys are more fun to hang out with."  
  
"You're not........."  
  
She laughed light-heartedly. "No, I'm as straight as an arrow. Boys are pretty."  
  
"Arrows go crooked." I hinted.  
  
"What is it with boys and lesbians? Even gay boys are always on the look for gay girls. Is there some sort of secret going on here?"  
  
"No, there's a difference," I explained, "straight guys like lesbians because they're sick bastards who want to watch girls have sex. Gay boys want to meet lesbian girls because they're female versions of them."  
  
"Really?"  
  
I nodded, hoping that I sounded sincere.  
  
"Oh, I'm still straight though."  
  
"OK, that's alright. So.........do you have a boyfriend?"  
  
She blushed. "No. Boys are only nice to look at, not much so for anything else."  
  
I frowned in concentration. "I guess. My friends are OK. They're boys. And Snoddy's nice."  
  
She grinned, "Snoddy who?"  
  
"My.........uh.........friend. I met him the other night at a.........uh.........place." God, that was weak.  
  
"Oooh!" she grabbed my pillow and flopped down on her stomach. "Spill! Spill! I smell boyfriend! Yay, yay, yay! Skittery's already got a man!"  
  
.............................  
  
"It's time to rinse off your head!" exclaimed Pigeon, jumping off the bed and dragging me by the elbow towards the bathroom.  
  
"Slow down Pidge! Slow down, slow down! You're hurting my elbow! My elbow Pidge! _ELBOW_!!!"  
  
"Blah, blah, blah. You're such a whiner. Just sit down and I can get the goop off your hair." She shoved me into the in front of my counter and pushed my head over the sink. She turned the water on to warm and rinsed of the dye, shampooing it in the process.  
  
"Ready to see it?" Pigeon dried my hair with a new towel. "Ready?" she was smiling so wide that I thought her face would explode with teeth.  
  
I nodded and she pulled the towel off.  
  
Staring beck in the mirror at me was a chocolate brown haired version of me.  
  
"Do you like it?" Pigeon was next to giddy with laughter.  
  
It looked OK. Honestly, it wasn't too bad it made me look mysterious.  
  
I smiled, "as long as it's not blonde."  
  
"Of course not. Fake blondes are so passé."  
  
Good thing she said 'fake', because Pigeon is a very natural-looking shade of blonde.  
  
A/n: OK, Pidge is actually based on my friend SparkS. She loves Skittery. She says if he won't love her she should at least be his fag hag. Who am I to deny her such an...uh...honour? 


	42. The Good, the Bad, and the Strawberry

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- erm...OK I won't let you die...I think. I missed Itey today, it was my birthday party. But Arrow and Achilles each got me pictures of him. Yay!  
  
AlmatariofArda- the term 'fag hag' is the correct one. How else would you describe her?  
  
(Still Monday)  
  
Spot's PoV  
  
Skittery was beaming today. The happiness was literally radiating off him—despite his mild confusion.  
  
Actually, I was pretty confused myself. Skittery had adopted a follower girl. Granted, she was quite nice.  
  
But Skittery was still pretty happy today. I asked him why during math class.  
  
He bit his lip. "Do you remember—wait, you wouldn't."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"When I went out with Boots and your cousin this guy, named Snoddy, asked me to dance—"  
  
"Skittery, if I'm not mistaken, that was a few days ago."  
  
"He just called me and asked if I wanted to go out."  
  
"Cool." I looked down at my algebra.  
  
Now I'm really pleased. Skittery is happy because he's got a date. Boots is happy because he's got an avid pupil, and Pie Eater's happy because he's got pie. Everything is coming up roses! Yay!  
  
Everything's great with my friends and everything's great with me. In fact, I'm on my way to meet Sprinter after her track practice.  
  
I turn the hall and exit the building into the sunlight and onto the track. Usually I can't stand being at the track, but I'm in such a good mood that I'm meeting Sprinter without her having to ask.  
  
I can't see her, but the track is busy and the track team is just clearing off now. I sit down in the bleachers next to—but not to close to—a couple who is madly sucking face. They smell disgustingly familiar, like sweetened strawberries. I inch away a bit more, and I catch a glimpse of the girl's face and almost drop dead.  
  
"Sprinter? What the hell?"  
  
She whirls around, spots me, and turns a very deep shade of red.  
  
No amount of confidence could make me feel better right now.  
  
A/n: Spotty! Poor Spotty! Uh...that's about all I can say to this author's note, and to review! Thanks! 


	43. Forgiveness and Elvis

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
**READ AND OPINION:** It's a travesty! A TRAVESTY I tell you! My dad was playing my guitar and using my laminated picture of Itey and a pick! ITEY AS A PICK!!! AHH!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- (in regards to the chapter 41 review) I love Itey, but Snitch and Itey, eh? You'd think because of that opening scene they'd be paired more often, wouldn't you? And Pigeon (who is my friend SparkS) loves Skittery. To death. (in regards to chapter 42) I don't care if it's the most damn obvious thing in the world! Shove Spot and Race together! Whoo hoo!!! Spot didn't like Sprinter in reality and his hate for the smellof strawberry is a deep psychological symbol of that (og my God, is that no the biggest load of crap you've ever heard? I just made that up) TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD ALL THE WAY!!!  
  
Coin- Race and Spot, lovely. They're so cute, aren't they?  
  
Two-Bits- thanks for reviewing when you could at the least. Mush and Blink ARE cute. All newsies are cute...  
  
Sloane Miette- Sprinter did it with some unknown guy so the story would move along and deliver the promised Angst. But I agree, poor Spot!  
  
(Tuesday)  
  
Crutchy's PoV  
  
"Hello Mrs Jones. Is Will ready?"  
  
"Eric!" Skittery's mom exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in so long! I'll go get William for you." She turned to the staircase and yelled, "William!" upstairs.  
  
Skittery came down, looking surprisingly different with dark, dark, brown hair. Surprisingly different, but surprisingly good.  
  
"Hi Skittery." I stood meekly in the doorway.  
  
"Crutchy! What're you.........hi, we're walking to school?"  
  
I nodded, relieved that he wasn't making a big deal out of it in front of his mom.  
  
Skittery picked up his backpack and kissed his mom on the cheek, then we walked down the driveway and onto the sidewalk.  
  
"Listen, Skittery," I swallowed nervously, "I'm really sorry about blowing up on you about my parents like I did. I just.........I'm not ready to talk to anyone about them yet."  
  
He smiled slightly. "It's OK. Sorry for pressing like I did and all."  
  
Skittery has this amazing way of making you feel better with only a few words. He seems to understand what you mean, even though he's never experienced what you have, but not in an overly cocky, incredibly annoying, worldly-knowledge, sort of way.  
  
"Friends?" I asked.  
  
"Of course. But I'll always listen if you want to talk. Always."  
  
Luckily Skittery is as great a guy as he is.  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
"I'm going out to class now. Think about calling Mom and Dad, OK Anthony?"  
  
I gave a muffled response from my couch bed.  
  
"And Anthony? Don't watch TV all day. Not only does it rot your brain, but it's not free and I only have so much money for bills."  
  
Same muffled response as before.  
  
Catherine left, the door clicking softly behind her.  
  
I got up and ate breakfast, brushed my teeth, took a shower, got dressed, and sat by the phone. I really was thinking of calling home, but what good would it do? What would I say to them? That I wish that Michael would leave? That I wish my dad would go back to the office? That I wish I could go back to school and hang out with my friends? That I could quit stupid horseback riding? I couldn't tell him that. So I called the person I could.  
  
"Hi, Bumlets?"  
  
"Race! Is that you?"  
  
"Yeah, what's up?" I smiled sadly, glad to finally hear someone who would listen.  
  
"Nothing much—"  
  
"Mr Messier! Would you like to join the class?" asked a shrill voice in the background.  
  
"Sorry Race, I've got to go." He hung up.  
  
I was sitting alone n my sister's dorm room with nothing to do.  
  
I put my coat on, grabbed the spare key, scrawled a quick note, and left. I wasn't exactly sure of where to go, but I had to get out of that room.  
  
Right now everyone was in school—just like Bumlets was. I wonder if anyone misses me, if anyone notices that I'm missing. Does anyone care? Why haven't my parents come looking for me? They should have at least called Catherine to tell her I'm gone.  
  
I found an old CD store on the street corner and turned in. the shelves were filled with nothing from before 1990. Other that that there was really no discrimination in music choices.  
  
I worked my way to an old cassette bin that read 'Tapes, $1'. There was nothing in it that I usually would have picked out, but I found a bunch of tapes of the blues and old time rock. Like Elvis.  
  
The man who worked there approached me. He was about my dad's age, that's where the similarities ended. He had a very bushy brown beard and squinty, crow's feet accented eyes. He was wearing a regular pair of jeans and a Woodstock sweater. I don't think my dad knew what Woodstock was. His nametag said Norman.  
  
"There's an HMV around the corner," said Norman.  
  
I looked up from the Elvis cassette in my hand. "I'm OK for now, thanks."  
  
He appeared sceptical and I don't blame him, thinking of how I must've looked and all.  
  
"It's for.........my dad," I said and immediately wished I hadn't. I couldn't even mention my parents without becoming full out confused.  
  
Norman grinned, showing off the laugh lines on his leathery face. "Your dad is a fan of the King?"  
  
I nodded dumbly, because for all I know he is. I don't know much about me father.  
  
Norman looked amazed. "It's not often a kid like you looks for music for his dad. Most kids don't even know what kind of music their parents liked. You and your old man must be close."  
  
"Yeah," I mumbled, "we're real close."  
  
A/n: what's this? Is Racetrack missing his family? Answer: no, not really. Norman just seemed like the guy to lie to. I really don't know what I'm talking about. R&R! 


	44. Lunch Time

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
READ AND OPINION: It's a travesty! A TRAVESTY I tell you! My dad was playing my guitar and using my laminated picture of Itey and a pick! ITEY AS A PICK!!! AHH!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- Race isn't silly, he's...confused. He misses his mommy and daddy...maybe...well, not, not really at all, but...uh...yeah. And I agree, go Skitts and Crutchy! Way to be friends!  
  
Strawberri Shake- they never play Newsies on TV here. That sucks. They do, however, play Shaft and Robocop. Gabriel Damon was in Robocop 3 and Christian Bale was in Shaft. But he was the bad guy... I don't know how many fag-hags should be in the story, but if I can I'll work it in. I suppose...  
  
A/n: we watched firework today because it is Victoria Day and everything is closed. Except the movies so I did that too. Before that I had soccer. After this I'm going to eat cabbage rolls. Yum. It's late.  
  
(Still Tuesday)  
  
Snoddy's PoV  
  
I was scoping the cafeteria when I saw him. I actually almost missed him because his hair was a different colour.  
  
"Skittery!" I waved to him.  
  
He looked up and waved back.  
  
I walked over and put my lunch down. "Can I sit here?"  
  
Skittery nodded quickly and moved over so I could sit.  
  
"This is Spot, Boots, Pigeon, Gar—"  
  
"Pie Eater." Pigeon burst into unexplained giggles.  
  
They honestly weren't the happiest looking bunch. Spot was fiddling with his fork, Boots looked tired and had very heavy bags under his eyes, Pie Eater just looked indistinct, like he wasn't sure what was going on, he was, however, surrounded by pieces of pie, and Pigeon—well, actually, she looked happy. Or maybe bubbly is the right word.  
  
She grinned at me. "Do you like Skittery's hair?"  
  
I reached up and stroked it and withdrew my hand, embarrassed. "Yeah, it looks good."  
  
Skittery blushed and mumbled, "thanks."  
  
Pigeon grinned wider. "I did it,' she noticed Skittery and I blushing, "hey, are you Snoddy?" she said this with a touch of mischief.  
  
I nodded and popped open my Coke.  
  
"So........." she rested her chin on her hand and gazed at me, "how'd you two meet?"  
  
So Skittery's friends know about us. And more specifically, him. They're pretty close if it doesn't bother them.  
  
"At this club called Horizontal. I asked Skittery to dance. And he said yes. That's about it."  
  
Mr Tired-Boots looked up at me, "do you go there often?"  
  
"Often? Well, I go about once or twice a month."  
  
"Do you know one of the bartenders there? His name's Swifty."  
  
I pause to think for a minute, and then I nod. "Yeah, he always wears a red hat?"  
  
Boots nods hopefully.  
  
"He's really nice. I think he lives over the bar or something."  
  
He nods again and says, "I'm his tutor."  
  
Something made me think he was more than that.  
  
"I don't know much about him though."  
  
Boots smiles anyways. I turn back to Skittery and Pigeon.  
  
"How'd you meet Skittery?' I ask.  
  
Pigeon beams, "I met him in the hall yesterday. Then I went over and dyed his hair! We're great friends!" she squishes Skittery into a hug. Skittery smiles slightly in what looks like a suffocated way.  
  
"Pidge, you're hurting me. I can't breathe." He prised Pigeon's arms off his waist and took a breath of relief.  
  
"Sorry Skittery is so HUGGABLE!" she gushed. "But you'd know that." She winked.  
  
I blushed. Skittery blushed. Pigeon giggled loudly.  
  
((So how was that? It was really one of the first Snoddy/Skitts interaction yet this fic. I love them! They're so cute! R&R!)) 


	45. Tongue Rings, Guidance and Frusturation

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Erin Go Bragh- 'S OK. I forgive you. I'm a very forgiving person. Thanks for reviewing and I agree, go ALL slash!!!  
  
Coin- I'll be sure to tell her that. She is a real, honest-to-God, Skittery loving girl. Really.  
  
Fir3CatL0v3r- thanks. This one's longer and from now on they will be because I don't know how to divide them anymore...  
  
(Wednesday)  
  
Itey's PoV  
  
"Mountie, you had chemistry with Roberts last year, right?"  
  
She looked up and shoved her heavy braid over her shoulder. That's one thing I've learned about Mountie: she always braids her hair.  
  
"No, I had chem. with Mr Connor. He's horrible." She made a face that included sticking out her tongue, showing off a tiny, silver ball.  
  
"You have your tongue pierced?" my eyes widened.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I got it done last night. I wanted to see if you'd notice." She stuck her tongue out again and looked down at it, cross-eyed.  
  
"Does your mom know?"  
  
Mountie giggled a bit. "Nah, she'd probably rant about it for a while and then forget."  
  
She doesn't say about like 'a-boot'. My cousin said that's how Canadians talk. I asked Mountie—in a moment of stupidity—why she didn't talk like this.  
  
She smacked me softly in the head. "What a ridiculous question. I don't know any Canadians who say 'about' like 'a-boot'. Nobody talks like that. It's an assumption. Like that I'm a member of the RCMP."  
  
I frown slightly, in thought, "oh, sorry then."  
  
She smiles in that way she does. "What did you need help with in chemistry? I'll see if I can help."  
  
"You can't Roberts asked me one of her weird brain puzzles and we get extra time in class to work on experiments if we answer correctly."  
  
"If you say so." Mountie shrugged, and unclips and reclips her bracelet. She peers around after a few seconds.  
  
"Where's your friend Bumlets?" she asked.  
  
"I dun no........." I look around too. The cafeteria appears spotless of all signs of Bumlets. Even Spring is only next to a bunch of clean-cut boys who probably like rap music just to seem cool, but deep down like listening to country. You know, white bread boys. The ones who just sink in and become faceless because you can't tell one from the other. The followers.  
  
"Oh! Wait! I see him!' Mountie points quite openly.  
  
And it is him. Next to Spring is Bumlets, free of his usual aura and baggy jeans. Even his hair is different, slicked back and prep-like. The only thing left of the old Bumlets are his eyebrow rings, but even those have been dampened to silver, instead of neon orange.  
  
"My God," I whisper, "she's created a monster."  
  
Mountie laughs, but I had been serious.  
  
Dutchy's PoV  
  
"Mr Denton will see you now." The receptionist smiles and directs me to a room marked 'Guidance'.  
  
I am in a part of the school I'd never been before. I didn't even know our school had a guidance councillor. This guy must be pretty high up though, even the principal doesn't have a receptionist, just the secretary, and she works for everyone.  
  
I enter the office and the first ting I see is a sign, front and centre, on Mr Denton's desk, that reads 'Bryan Denton. The next thing I notice is his very heavy oak desk upon which the nameplate is sitting. The third thing I notice is Mr Denton himself.  
  
He has a very narrow, yet strangely oval face. His hair is slicked back and—believe it or not—he is wearing a grey tweed suit and a matching bow tie.  
  
"John, is it?" he looks up from a folder that has my name on it. Are they keeping tabs on me?  
  
I tell him that it's pronounced 'Yo' in Dutchy, but that John is fine.  
  
He smiles and tells me to sit. I do.  
  
He clears his throat. "Let's begin, shall we? What do you need help with?"  
  
Suddenly, I remember that I was the one who asked for a meeting with him.  
  
He puts the tips of his fingers together, signifying that he's listening.  
  
"I-"I swallow, "I have some questions about sex—"  
  
He cuts me off. 'Don't be embarrassed John! Sex is a very common thing for boys your age to be questioning." He looks back down at his folder, "you're 16? Yes, yes, there are many programs that talk about dealing with.........um—sexual endeavours, if you will. They are all anonymous so there is no need to worry about confidentiality," he adds reassuringly.  
  
This would all be fine and good if I had meant to say 'sex'. I had wanted, however, to say 'sexuality'.  
  
"Actually," I try again, "I wanted to know about sexuality."  
  
"Oh," Mr Denton looks embarrassed, "now that's quite a different thing." But he quickly regains himself and is on the ball again. He shovels out pamphlets, and leaflets, and phone numbers, but offers no direct help.  
  
I thank him anyways and get up to leave.  
  
For such a high-up man, Mr Denton sure does fluster easily. Maybe clueless even.  
  
I wonder if he's ever needed to see a guidance councillor.  
  
Jack's PoV  
  
"Kelly! Hey! Kelly!"  
  
I turned to see Sarah's brother storming down the hall towards me.  
  
"My name's Jack," I say calmly.  
  
"Shut up!" he yells, turning incredibly red. "I need to talk to you!"  
  
"Talk away." I rest my books on my hip and fix him with what I hope is a concerned stare.  
  
"What is up with you? How can you just ditch her like that? You never even officially broke up! You're such a—"  
  
"What is 'officially breaking up' Jacobs?" I ask lazily, "How can you certify that? Do we need a document signed?"  
  
"Maybe you should.........at least tell her! He was very angry. He was spitting a little, but I pretended not to notice. That would be rude.  
  
"How am I supposed to tell her? I'm not allowed to see her, call her, mail her, and she avoids me in the halls. If you ask me, she ditched me."  
  
He glared. "You're the one who started dating! You're the one who doesn't care spit for anyone but himself! You're never going to account for anything in your life Jack Kelly!"  
  
Ouch. That one was a little bit below the belt.  
  
"Jacobs," I smirked, "don't you hate Sarah?"  
  
"That's not the point! She's my sister! I may not like her, but I do love her! I'm her brother, I have to! I have to look out for her. We're a family."  
  
Momentarily, my mind turned to Aaron but I shook it out, and along with it the guilt. I never stood up for him. What was wrong with me?  
  
"I thought you were deep," he was no longer yelling. It was more like a hiss. "I thought you were waiting for something. I was wrong. What you see is what you get, eh?"  
  
He walked away.  
  
How did he know I was deep? I am waiting. I am still waiting. I know he didn't say it, but I feel like he did anyway.  
  
A/n: ha ha! David knows Jack better than Jack knows himself! And what do y'all think of Denton? R&R! 


	46. Rehearsal

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- I can just picture a struggling Dutchy coming out of the guidance office and trailing pamphlets behind him. So cute!  
  
(Thursday)  
  
Mush's PoV  
  
"Places everyone! PLACES!" I swear to God that Miss Larkson would have an aneurysm.  
  
It was the first dress rehearsal. Ever.  
  
Twitch was dancing around the stage in her nun habit. She'd completely forgotten about her nunish behaviour. Now she completely resembled a bird.  
  
I put on my cloak and fastened it around my shoulders. Then I put on a matching black hat with a giant purple feather. I wild say I looked regal, but hilarious is more the word.  
  
"Nice costume," came Blink's voice from behind me. His reflection was visible out of the corner of my mirror.  
  
He was wearing a cloak similar to mine only in brown, and a big musketeer hat. His eye patch was still brown, but it was now made of suede-like material. It completed his costume.  
  
"Hi Blink." I smiled. "You look pretty good."  
  
He walked over and put his arm around my waist.  
  
"Thanks." We stood there, smiling at our reflections for a while.  
  
After a few minutes like this Dutchy stuck his head into the primarily curtained room. "Guys........." he paused, spotting us, "it's time." And he left.  
  
Blink kissed my forehead. "Let's go," he whispered.  
  
I smoothed out my cloak and followed him.  
  
Dutchy's PoV  
  
The start of rehearsal was delayed because we couldn't find Mush or Blink, which wouldn't be such a big problem if they both weren't in the first scene. It's funny, because I'm Romeo and the show could start without me! My name is in the title of the play for Christ's sakes! It's ROMEO and Juliet!  
  
But on stage were Blink, Mush, Rain, March, Spinner, Jim, and Catch, and I was off stage watching.  
  
There were a few kids working on the sets and a few more working on the lighting, curtains, and sound systems.  
  
Sitting in the front row of the auditorium is Specs. He waves to me slightly and I feel my heart rise. It's like when you go bungee jumping, or right before a drop on a roller coaster. Only ten times more exciting, and ten times more exhilarating. I wave back.  
  
Miss Larkson stops the scene and turns to me. "Yes John? Is there a problem?"  
  
She must have mistaken my waving.  
  
I shook my head and blushed—what's that saying? 'Sixteen shades of red'—whatever it was, that's what I did.  
  
In the aisle Specs was rolling with laughter. I glared at him but he flashed me a smile and I couldn't help but feel good again.  
  
Songs are so happy and I felt like seriously trying to talk in rhyme to go along with my new giddy, heart-floating nature.  
  
Luckily William Shakespeare liked to rhyme or else I'd be in even more crap with Miss Larkson.  
  
A/n: OK, I'm going to correct myself here. Shakespeare didn't always rhyme, usually only in his sonnets (there are two in Romeo and Juliet, none of which are said by Romeo). Sorry for that technicality! Please overlook it! R&R! 


	47. Define 'Close'

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Fir3CatL0v3r-Spot? A boy? What would make you thin that? Maybe because THAT WAS MY PLAN!!!  
  
Jackey Higgins- that was pretty long for a short review. Anyways, everyone is someone's fetish huh? Interesting, very interesting...a little creepy though...  
  
(Still Thursday)  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
"Catherine? Would you say we're a close family?"  
  
She looked up from her notes and furrowed her brow. "Anthony, are you serious?"  
  
I nodded meekly.  
  
"Maybe you should be asking yourself that. Would you have run away if we were?" she asked, making a good point. Unfortunately, it was one I'd already considered.  
  
"Would I have run to you if we weren't?"  
  
Now Catherine was in the same confused state as I was. She bit her lip and ran her hand through her hair.  
  
"I think........." she struggled to begin, "I think that 'we' as in you and I, are close. But collectively, as a family, we've got a pretty weak foundation."  
  
"What are you majoring in again?"  
  
"Engineering," she said quite simply, "why?"  
  
I laughed, "You'd make a damn good psychologist."  
  
She looked flattered before turning serious again. "Have you called Mom and Dad yet?"  
  
"Have they called me? I danced around the question.  
  
"Anthony! That's irrelevant! What do you care if they call?"  
  
"It would prove that they know I'm missing. So far I don't think they've noticed. They haven't called you. They should have done that in the least."  
  
Catherine raised her eyebrows. "You don't think they care? Fine, I'll call them."  
  
She picked up the phone and dialled rapidly.  
  
"Hello? Mom?.........yeah, it's Catherine.........nice to hear your voice too.........so, how are you?.........and Dad?.........and Anthony?"  
  
I couldn't help but flinch when I noticed Catherine's face falling after my name was mentioned.  
  
"Um.........yeah, I was—I was just calling to check in." Catherine's voice cracked. I felt terrible. I had a strong urge to hang up the phone on my mom. Why would she lie to Catherine like that? I knew she didn't really just miss that fact that I was gone. They're not so terribly neglectful.  
  
Catherine hung up the phone and looked at me with hallow eyes. "She said you were 'fine'. Said you were out at riding lessons, just like you're doing every Thursday from now on. It's your second week, she said."  
  
"And what about Michael? Did she mention Michael?"  
  
"She didn't say his name once."  
  
So I had been right and Catherine had been wrong. They hadn't missed me. The triumph was only lacking the feeling of victory.  
  
David's PoV  
  
Sandbags. I'm really starting to hate sandbags. The stage must have two hundred plus, sandbags. And I'm not over exaggerating.  
  
Behind me Jack is glazing the finished set. To my right Oscar and Morris are testing the lighting by shining it into the audience members' eyes. One guy is on the floor.  
  
I throw a ball of paper I Oscar's direction and it hits him in the head. He turns around and blinks dumbly. I look away quickly—better not to give myself away before I have to. Delay my ass whooping.  
  
"What's the big idea Jacobs?" shouts Oscar, interrupting the rehearsal.  
  
"Mr Delancy! Do you mind not shouting out during practice?" she glared at Oscar, and he stormed towards me as soon as she turned away.  
  
"Jacobs," he whispered menacingly, "watch your back. Don't go treading on anyone's shoes. Be careful who you mess with."  
  
"Yeah,' laughed Morris stupidly, "be careful."  
  
"It's so nice that you two share a brain," I mumbled, and immediately regretted it. They turned on me.  
  
"Leave him alone Oscar."  
  
"And what if I don't Sullivan?" Oscar spat the words.  
  
"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." Jack looked up from his set.  
  
What's wrong with this picture? Oh yeah, Jack is the one standing up for me. And I'm the one who hates him. And I like my sister. Things are as messed up as they could possibly be.  
  
((Did you like it? David's all like: 'everything's upside down' and Jack's all: 'I'm confused,' and Race said: 'I don't like our family. We don't love each other." I introduce, the chapter in a nutshell. Ta da! R&R please!)) 


	48. A Mother's Words

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin: CHAIN OF FOOLS!!! (that's what your review made me sing)  
  
(Still Thursday)  
  
Spot's PoV  
  
"Simon? Could you pass the potatoes?"  
  
I looked up slowly, reached the potatoes even slower, and pushed the bowl across the wooden tabletop.  
  
"Simon? Are you OK?"  
  
I nodded sadly.  
  
"Simon? Truthfully?"  
  
Could she start a sentence without using my name?  
  
"Simon! Answer me!"  
  
"Nothing's wrong! Nothing's wrong Mom."  
  
"Simon Conlon, please tell me what's wrong with you.' She peered at me from behind her thin glasses.  
  
"Mom, I don't—"  
  
"Simon........." she sounded firm, but concerned.  
  
"I don't want to........." I saw the look in her face and my heart sunk. How could I lie to her? She cared so much. All she wanted to do was help. "It's just that.........Sprinter.........I saw.........I caught Sprinter cheating on me."  
  
My mom looked shocked. "Julie was cheating in you? Oh baby.' She got up and sat down beside me. She took my hand in hers and looked at me with compassion in her eyes.  
  
Then she said all of those things that mothers are supposed to say when something like this happens. Like that Sprinter would be the one missing out and that any girl would be lucky to have me.  
  
I'm beginning to think that there is no such thing as perfection, because with perfection comes happiness. And I know for sure that happiness is an illusion.  
  
A/n: Spot and his mommy. Isn't it sweet? He tells her everything, they're so close! Cute, cute, CUTE! R&R people! I need REVIEWS!!! 


	49. Lost Friends, Lost Rehearsals

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- David isn't clueless in the 'I love Jack' area, he knows it and is ashamed because Jack hurt his sister. And dress rehearsals are fun to write about, considering that I don't have any. I'm not making much sense. I think I'll stop.  
  
Coin: Spot and his mommy LOVE each other. Forever and ever!  
  
Fir3CatL0v3r: yum! Lollypop! Thanks!  
  
(Friday)  
  
Itey's PoV  
  
Mountie and I were waiting for the bus this morning when she asked me:  
  
"Itey, do you have any friends other that Bumlets and I?"  
  
I looked at her. "Yeah. Racetrack, but I don't know where he's been the last few days."  
  
"Racetrack who?" she looked interested.  
  
The bus came and we got on.  
  
"Racetrack Higgins. Actually, his name is Anthony."  
  
"Oh," Mountie looked confused, 'and you don't know where he is?"  
  
"He's usually the one who drives me, but he had some family stuff to do. Brunch or something. I figure his dad's become a 'family man' because he wasn't before." It sounded suspicious to me now that I'd said it aloud.  
  
"He hasn't called you?" Mountie stumbled a bit as the bus stopped.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"How long has he been gone?" she frowned and raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Since last Friday." I was starting to fee a little worried myself. Where was Racetrack?  
  
She looked at me, more concerned now than confused now.  
  
"I—I don't know where he is!"  
  
Kid Blink's PoV  
  
I locked the door to our room on the way out. Swifty was still in bed, his shift at the grocery store didn't start until ten.  
  
I walked down the street to the subway, my new daily routine since I lived so far from my actual school district now.  
  
The subway car jerked as it stopped and started. It passed Grand Central Station where people were rushing to their next ride, dressed in business suits and carrying heavy suitcases. They looked tired, even though most of them were clutching coffee cups or thermoses. How come people always looked so miserable? They chose their living, didn't they? Wouldn't they choose something they liked doing? And then it hit me, what if you worked because you had to? Just like I had to set up lights if I wanted to board above Horizontal. Suddenly I had a new understanding for these people.  
  
The production of Romeo and Juliet was going to be presented in three weeks time. I knew my lines, but most of the main characters didn't. They have a lot of them. You could tell Miss Larkson was getting a little annoyed with our Juliet, Spring. Especially yesterday at rehearsal.  
  
"OK, let's move onto act 3, scene 2 people!" Miss Larson shouted from where she was sitting in the auditorium.  
  
Spring and Piper took their spots on stage.  
  
"Whenever you're ready girls."  
  
Spring cleared her throat. "Gallop apace, you firery-footed steeds, towards Phoebus' lodging! Such a wagoner, As Phaëton would whip you to the West and in cloudy night, That runaway eyes may wink, and Romeo. Leap to these arms—uh—untalked of and—um—"  
  
"Unseen!" hissed the prompter.  
  
"Amanda Springfield! Have you not yet learned your lines?"  
  
Spring looked up and provided muttered apologies.  
  
"I need you to learn your lines! How would it look if our Juliet is the only one who doesn't know what she's saying."  
  
"In my defence, Miss Larkson, I don't understand why it takes twenty lines for Juliet to express how much she wants night to come."  
  
Miss Larkson gave up on act 3, scene 2, and sent Spring backstage to learn her lines.  
  
As Gregory, I don't have a lot of speaking lines in the second half of the show, seeing as my main part is in the first scene.  
  
Mush looks really good as the prince, I discovered yesterday at dress rehearsal. He's all musketeer-like, as though he's going to rescue a princess from a tower. Maybe it'll be me.  
  
Thinking of Mush as the prince makes me blush on the spot. A lady across the way from me smiles.  
  
By the time it's my stop the subway is packed with rush hour travellers. I fight my way through the crowd and run up the stairs.  
  
Outside it is much brighter then it was underground and I catch sight of Boots on his way to class. I meet up with him and we walk to school  
  
Swifty kissed him the other day, but Boots doesn't mention this. He hardly talks about Swifty anymore at all, except to ask how he is, and I always answer 'fine'.  
  
Yesterday Boots looked tired, then today he looks flat out exhausted. I know he's probably struggling to understand what happened between Swifty and him the other day. I wonder how they study together if Boots can't even concentrate by himself.  
  
When we reach the school we split up and I look for Mush by his locker. He gives me a hug and I kiss him on the cheek.  
  
A teacher who is passing glares at us, and Mush bursts out laughing when he gets out of hearing range.  
  
"Friggn' homophobe," I mutter.  
  
Mush just laces his fingers into mine, smiles, and says he'll meet me at lunch. He gives me a quick kiss on the lips before heading for class.  
  
A/n: wow is Spring stupid! She can't remember her lines! That's too bad for the rest of the cast. And Itey's on the search for Race. Will he find him? R&R! 


	50. Missing Classes and Announcments

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin: yeah, Mush as a musketeer would be so...hot! Heh heh heh...  
  
Bobcat:Slashgoil- yeah, ALL slash couples are cute...except when people are stupid and set up the Delanceys (blanches) who would do something like that?  
  
Sorry, other than this I got no reviews for this chapter! If you tried to review and I didn't give you a shoutout it's because something went wrong! I can't read them! My humble apologies!  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
Specs' PoV  
  
"Mo-om! Dutch—um—John is coming over tonight, OK?" I yelled just before leaving the house.  
  
"I'm not going to be here tonight!" she yelled back.  
  
It didn't make a huge difference whether she was here or not.  
  
"Don't worry," I reassured her, "it'll only be John."  
  
I think that my mom is still waiting for me to hit my wild and crazy teenage phase. Little does she know it's already come and gone. Once I smoked a cigarette outside the school in the ninth grade. It made me so sick that I've never done it again.  
  
"Bye!" I left and headed to my car. I unlocked the front door and got in.  
  
On my way to school I did a mental check about what I had/needed.  
  
The movie? Check.  
  
Popcorn? Check.  
  
Living Room Free? Check.  
  
Dog Walked? (no interruptions) Taken Care Of.  
  
Dutchy? Check.  
  
By the time I was done contemplating what type of soft drink to buy I had arrived at school.  
  
After stopping at my locker I found myself in homeroom. The announcements came on:  
  
"Good morning students, staff, and faculty," blah, blah, blah, same old intro.  
  
Something about the cafeteria. Band regionals. Track meets. Soccer games. Play practice. Staff meeting. Yearbook committee.  
  
"That is all. Make good educational choices. Have a nice day."  
  
There was a high, squeaking noise, a lot of static, and whoever did the announcements swore loudly before hanging up the receiver.  
  
"Um.........OK........." our teacher cleared her throat, "let's get back to work."  
  
========================  
  
"Specs!" Dutchy ran towards me in the hall, waving his arms wildly.  
  
I turned and grinned.  
  
"I might be late tonight. There's play practice most of the day."  
  
My face fell. "When did you find out?" I asked.  
  
He looked at me as if I should know. "It was on the announcements this morning. 'Would all members of the play please report to the auditorium after homeroom for a rehearsal'. Sound familiar?"  
  
That was completely new to me, but Dutchy was beginning to think I was brain dead so, "right, right. Sorry, I forgot. I'll.........I'll wait for you then."  
  
"I could just take the bus, if that'd—"  
  
"I'll wait for you."  
  
Then I turned and ran very fast or I'd be late for my next class as well.  
  
Mush's PoV  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Miss Larkson paces in front of us in the auditorium, "needless to say, yesterday's rehearsal was atrocious! We need more practice! Does anyone have any commitments after school?" there are a few muttered replies, "then I suggest you call home now to say you can't make them. We're staying here until everyone knows their cues, places, and lines."  
  
No one says anything to that.  
  
Miss Larkson continues, "now, I want everyone on stage and ready in ten minutes, no ifs, ands, or buts."  
  
She turns on her heel and heads over to the sets, probably to give them a similar speech.  
  
"I had a hair appointment!" complains Spring from the back row.  
  
I see Rain shoot her a glare. "This is all your fault, you know. The rest of us knew our lines."  
  
And just before they are about to jump into a full-on bitch fight, Miss Larkson yells that we have only nine minutes and everyone stands up and rushes about.  
  
I see Dutchy slip out the door, maybe to use the payphone?  
  
I run backstage and throw on my pants and shirt. In the crowded costume room I locate my cloak.  
  
Blink stands across the room, tying on his eye patch. He grins widely and waves.  
  
I walked over. "Missing history?" I ask.  
  
"Yeah, you?'  
  
"Tech." I fasten the cloak around my shoulders.  
  
"Five minutes!" yells Miss Larkson.  
  
"I've got to find my cloak." He gives me a quick hug and hurries to the rack with the clothes on it.  
  
Dutchy speeds into the room in a gust of wind. He is jumping on one foot as he struggles on his boot, looking really flustered and hurried.  
  
I find his cloak and bring it to him.  
  
"Thanks Mush," he gasps, taking the cloak and putting it on.  
  
"Where'd you go?" I ask.  
  
"I had to tell Specs that I might be late meeting him tonight."  
  
"Oh," I raise my eyebrows good-naturedly.  
  
He laughs and smoothes out his hair.  
  
"Act 1, scene 1!" screeches Miss Larkson from the audience.  
  
People rush to their places.  
  
Lights, camera, action!  
  
A/n: that's it. See how the play gets in the way? So much fun to watch, so much trouble and inconvenience! Too bad! Review please! 


	51. Memories of Grade One

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- it didn't eat my review, someone changed my email password and I couldn't get to it. I can't read my reviews for Rome on this computer because it's all messed up. Our principal ends the announcements with 'Have a safe, productive, and enjoyable day.'  
  
Erin Go Bragh- there is minimal SpecsDutchy in this chap, nothing really big. Yet...heh heh heh...  
  
Bobcat:Slashgoil- I don't know why anyone would set up the Delancys, it was just a cruel spur of the moment idea...and I didn't think it was a sleepover, just a movie.  
  
Coin-heh heh, sigh, Huzzah.  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
David's PoV  
  
"Are you OK Sarah?" I sat down on the couch next to her.  
  
She looked up at me. "I'm fine."  
  
"What about.........Jack?"  
  
She appeared a little sad but answered bravely, "everything's fine. Jack is.........Jack. I haven't seen him."  
  
I gave her another hug. "Carpe diem" I said.  
  
She smiled. "What does that mean?"  
  
"Seize the day. It's Latin."  
  
"Alright then, carpe diem." She looked a little distressed, "thanks Davey."  
  
She hadn't called me 'Davey' since she and Jack split up.  
  
"Carpe diem", I said to myself as I left the room, "carpe diem."  
  
Dutchy's PoV  
  
"But that a joy past joy calls out on me, It wore a grief so brief to part with thee. Farewell."  
  
So ending Act 3, scene 3.  
  
Miss Larkson finally seemed pleased and declared rehearsal over. "Go home!" she ordered, "get a good sleep. Rehearsal Monday after school."  
  
The stage cleared and I saw Specs sitting in the back row, his head lolling off to the side, asleep.  
  
I chuckled slightly before heading back to change.  
  
By the time I got to him he had fallen into a deeper sleep, and was snoring loudly.  
  
"Specs," I poked his shoulder, "Sp-ecs, wake uu-up!"  
  
He grunted a little, opened his eyes slightly, saw me, and jerked upright.  
  
"I'm sorry," he rubbed his eyes.  
  
"It's all right," I laughed, "are we ready to go?  
  
Specs stood up and gestured toward the door, "after you."  
  
"Make yourself comfortable." Specs left me in his family room.  
  
I sat down on the couch and surveyed the room.  
  
Directly in front of me was the TV and to my right were two tall windows, in front of which sat two leather loveseats. To my right there was a large redbrick fireplace, surrounded by a decorative screen. On the mantle are pictures of Specs and his family. In the far side I see one of Specs and I with our arms over each other's shoulders. That was probably grade 6 maybe grade 7.  
  
I can't believe that we've known each other that long. Now that I think about it, it's been since grade 1, when I started school. I remember that we were the only two kids in our class to wear glasses. The other kids had named him 'Specs' the year before, in Senior Kindergarten. They named me 'Dutchy' because that's how they said my last name, 'Dutchy-shen'.  
  
Specs came back in the room.  
  
"Do you remember how we met?" I asked him.  
  
He took off his hat, put it down on the coffee table, sat down, and faced me. "I try not to." He grinned.  
  
Specs had just gotten over the chicken pox. His doctors said it was OK for him to go to school because they weren't contagious anymore. Specs had to be the funniest looking kid there, on the first day of school he was wearing messy overalls, small, think-rimmed glasses, and was covered in tiny chicken-pox marks. Not to mention he had a runny nose. He was still scratching his neck a little.  
  
"Don't do that. You're not 'appost to," I'd said.  
  
He'd sniffed and rubbed his nose. "The doctor sayses the chicken pox is gone."  
  
And that was the beginning of our friendship. I wonder if we'll be friends years from now.  
  
"Are we going to watch the movie?"  
  
I snapped back into reality and saw he'd brought a bowl of popcorn.  
  
"Sure." I settled back into the couch's cushions.  
  
Specs pushed the 'play' button and after a few seconds a girl's face came on the screen and a song played. Very slowly, Specs put his are around me, but not in the same way he had in that picture from grade 6. I rested my head on his shoulder and focused at the screen.  
  
A/n: there you have it! It wasn't rated R, I apologize, but it was cute enough, right? Can't you just imagine a little Specs and a little Dutchy? I know I can! Aww! R&R!!! 


	52. Pinstripe

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Erin Go Bragh- that was all of movie night. Short an' Sweet. I luffles little Specs and Iil' Dutchy!! Aww!  
  
Turpentine Chaser- does anyone NOT love lil' Specs and lil' Dutchy? I think NOT!  
  
Coin- heh heh, Specs all overally...  
  
Strawberri Shake- my friend from my soccer team saw CAMP and thinks Vlad is hot too. Her and her friends yelled 'TAKE IT ALL OFF' when he was wiping his face on his shirt (when Micheal was all, 'yum!'). But I like Spitzer. He's so gay! He he he. And, did you know that Steven Cutts is in the Toronto production of Hairspray? I saw him! Too cool! Sarah had to be nice. Maybe she'll eventually have to give David and Jack her blessing. If I decide to go that way...so far Jack being evil is fun.  
OH, and my sister and I used to say 'appost to' when we were little.  
  
Whoo, I've passed 100 reviews! Go me! (dances madly in gigantic circle. Trips and falls down) I'm OK! Buttons has left the building! (runs out of room.) (Runs back in and pushed 'upload') GOODNIGHT NEW YORK!!!  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
Catherine rushed around the room gathering her keys and purse.  
  
"Catherine, where are you going?" I asked from where I sat.  
  
"Work," she managed between hurrying.  
  
"Can I come?" I asked. I needed to 'clear my head'.  
  
"Um...sure. But first, Anthony, you have to learn something about—about me." Catherine looked a little distressed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm...I'm a lesbian."  
============================  
"You work here?" I asked, eyeing the room.  
  
It was actually nice, an under-19 club. The walls were painted in green and pumpkin stripes, the tables were all gray, and the bar was dark and made of wood.  
  
Catherine began to take the chairs off the tops of the tables and wipe them down.  
  
"This is a gay club?" I asked.  
  
Catherine nodded.  
  
"And what do you do here?"  
  
"I set up and help with drink distribution. Kind of like a waitress."  
  
"A cocktail waitress," I corrected her.  
  
We took down all the chairs, and slowly people began to fill the large room.  
  
I sat at the bar talking to one of the bartenders and watching people.  
  
Spot's PoV  
  
The phone rang.  
  
Twice, three times.  
  
The answering machine picked up.  
  
"_You've reached the home of Marilyn and Simon. Sorry, but we're out right now. Please leave a message and we'll get back to you as soon as we can! Beep!_"  
  
It was Skittery. "Hey, Spot? I'm calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight. Call me back, OK?"  
  
He was about to hang up when I decided to pick up.  
  
"Skittery? What did you have in mind?"  
============================  
"What's this place called again?" I asked as we walked through the parking lot.  
  
"Horizontal," says Skittery.  
  
The door read 'Ladies Night'. Skittery looked confused for a minute before turning.  
  
"OK, we'll find somewhere else."  
  
We headed down the street for a while.  
  
"It's around here somewhere." Skittery looked around.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Pinstripe," he said simply.  
  
And then he turned abruptly.  
  
The room was full of boys and girls dancing on the floor, sitting at the bar, and littering the overhead loft.  
  
In a matter of seconds Skittery was on the phone inviting Snoddy over, and in what seemed like an even shorter time he was there. They left me alone to go dance.  
  
I sat down on a bar stool next to a familiar-looking boy.  
  
"Hi," I introduced myself. "I'm Spot."  
  
"Racetrack," he said.  
  
A/n: wow, it's chapter 52 and the plot's still growing. Will it ever end? Answer: no, no it won't. Muah ha ha!!! Reviews!!! 


	53. Fridays Are Ladies Night

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- thanks. Names are the hardest thing to think of. For a lot of them I just look through the phone book or at my surroundings. For Dutchy's last name (Dutchyshen) I used a guy's last name on Sports Centre. Cool, huh? Oh, and it is the beginning...it's only the beginning...  
Oh, and in response to your review of White Roses (which I am very thankful for!) I am actually not Buddhist but my dad's side of the family is. I'm Catholic. My grandfather didn't want a plaque because it's extra trouble. It is explained in later chapters, but it wasn't in the prologue yet.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- don't worry, my alter-ego and I talk all the time. We're like best friends!  
  
Coin- that's what readers everywhere are asking themselves. You'll have to continue to find out...  
  
Because of Strawberri Shake's review of my story I am motivated to shamelessly plug. Go to fictionpress and read my story! It's under the same penname as here! Please!!!!  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
Jack's PoV  
  
"Hi Jack!"  
  
"Arrow!" I stood up, "I was wondering when you'd show up!"  
  
"Well, I'm here now," she grinned, "Shall we?"  
  
We walked towards the movie theatre entrance. I went to buy the tickets and the girl behind the counter told me they were sold out.  
  
"What should we do now?" I asked Arrow.  
  
"The mall?" she suggested.  
  
So, minutes later, we were sitting in the food court sharing a giant tub of fries and laughing ourselves silly.  
  
I kept hearing Sarah's brother yelling at me, but I looked at Arrow and smiled anyways. I didn't do anything wrong. I can't be expected to wait for her forever.  
  
Arrow was here right now. And Arrow was real.  
  
Boots' PoV  
  
"Swifty?" I opened the door to his apartment and stepped in.  
  
Downstairs music was blaring and girls were giggling.  
  
Swifty's room was dark except for the solid beam of moonlight pouring in the window.  
  
"Boots, what are you doing here?" His voice didn't come from within the room, rather from the hallway.  
  
I had been thinking about this for a while. What would I say to him? I had seen him enough but we hadn't mentioned the kiss.  
  
"I-I don't know." I put my hand on his neck and pulled him towards me. I kissed him, and shocked, he kissed me back.  
  
He swung the door shut behind him and we stumbled into the room. I hit his bed. He looked up ay me. "Boots, are you sure you want to do this?"  
  
"Dammit! How will I ever know?" I asked, "You said so yourself Swifty. How will I know until someone shows me?"  
  
He took it as a 'yes' and pulled his shirt over his head.  
  
_Boots_, I thought, _you'd better know what you're getting yourself into_.  
  
A/n: heh heh heh, Boots and Swifty! Can I hear an 'awww!!!'? Very good. Review! Don't forget! 


	54. The Next Morning

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Erin Go Bragh- such is my plan...  
  
Turpentine chaser- OK, I guess you can take it. Just tell everyone where you got it! Yeah! Free advertising.  
  
Strawberri Shake- I never liked Sarah and Arrow is based on my friend...that's all really...oh, and Boots and Swifty ROCK!  
  
Coin- heh heh heh, Boots.  
  
(Saturday)  
  
Boots' PoV  
  
When I woke up the first thing I noticed was someone's leg draped over mine. I took a deep breath to calm myself and opened my eyes.  
  
The sun was cascading in the window, much like the moonlight had been last night. My head was rested on somebody's bare chest, and I looked up to discover a sleeping Swifty.  
  
"Awake, are you?" My head jerked to the kitchen table, where the voice had come from.  
  
"Huh?" I panicked slightly seeing Blink.  
  
I pulled the tangled sheets off my leg, sat up, and pulled on my pants, which were discarded in the corner of the room.  
  
"You were here?" I gasped.  
  
"Nah," Blink shook his head, "mind, you might want to find something to put on the door so I know that you're—uh—bust. Like a tie or something. I got quiet a shock walking in late and discovering that you were in here too."  
  
By this time Swifty had woken up and was sitting, blinking around the room.  
  
"Morning," he yawned.  
  
"Hear that?" Blink asked him. "Put a tie on the door next time, OK?"  
  
Swifty looked embarrassed.  
  
"Where were you? Why were you out so late anyway?" I looked at Blink.  
  
He ducked his head into his collar, avoiding the question.  
  
"Well?" I prodded.  
  
"Nothing, Mush and I just went out for dinner after rehearsal." He blushed.  
  
I sat down across the kitchen table from him. Swifty joined me, placing his hand on my leg. I tensed out of habit, but relaxed after a moment.  
  
"Dinner?" Swifty looked intrigued, "surly not just dinner."  
  
Blink blushed further. "It was just dinner," he took a sip of coffee, "you two should leave me alone! I'm not prodding about your—ahem—activities last night."  
  
Swifty bit his lip.  
  
I didn't say anything. Blink laughed triumphantly and poured himself another cup of coffee.  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
"And then she dumped you?" I asked.  
  
"NO," came Spot's voice through the earpiece, "we haven't talked since."  
  
"You haven't talked to her? At all?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Don't you see each other at school?"  
  
"I try to avoid her," said Spot simply. "How about you? Any girl troubles?"  
  
"Yes," I paused, "but none directly affecting me. My best friend has a new girlfriend."  
  
"Oh? And?"  
  
"He wasn't spending time with me."  
  
"But you had other friends too?" Spot sounded concerned.  
  
"Of course! There's this new kid named Itey, him mom and mine were friends in college."  
  
Spot and I have almost nothing in common, except that we were the only straight people—let along guys—in Pinstripe last night.  
  
"You're sister's a lesbian, right?" Was the first thing he asked me.  
  
"Yes," I had said.  
  
Then he told me that one of his friends was gay, one was confused, and one loved pie.  
  
"Is pie code for something?"  
  
"No," he'd smiled, "he really does love pie."  
  
We'd talked for a good three hours and before we left Pinstripe we exchanged phone numbers.  
  
I discovered that he went to the same school as me and I asked him if he knew Spring.  
  
"And her boyfriend? That's Bumlets."  
  
"Is it?...he's so...clean cut."  
  
"Are you serious? Bumlets?" Something was wrong here. We couldn't possibly mean the same guy. Did Spot consider bandannas and eyebrow rings clean-cut?  
  
"That girl's boyfriend at least."  
  
"Eyebrow rings?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
"Orange?"  
  
"Silver."  
  
"Oh my God! She's turning Bumlets into a cliché teenager! Soon she'll have him listening to hip-hop!"  
  
"Race, are you OK?"  
  
"She's destroying Bumlets!"  
  
"Race—"  
  
"I have to call him!" And without thinking I hung up on Spot. I was halfway through dialling Bumlets' number when I realized.  
  
I called Spot back. "I'm so sorry!"  
  
"Just warn me next time before you have another freak spaz out or whatever."  
  
A/n: OK, just review please! Oh, and poor Bumlets, being turned into a clone like that. 


	55. Pie Eater

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawverri Shake- Swoots? It sounds like a NFL mascot...and my computer auto-changes 'Swoots' to 'swots'. No kidding, I have to go back and change it. Heh heh, Pie Eater and his pie. This chapter contains his first ever PoV. I love it! Go Pie!  
  
(Still Saturday)  
  
Pie Eater's PoV  
  
I've always been the moody, withdrawn, pie-loving, kid in our group. Truth be told, I notice a lot more than I let on.  
  
Like, I know something's going on with Boots and that kid he tutors, I know Sprinter was cheating on Spot, I know that Pigeon likes gay boys, and I know that Skittery is in love with Snoddy.  
  
I may be the only person in our group—no, the entire universe, to know all these things.  
  
I'm not very talkative, but I will speak up when I need to. Listening to people's problems is much more interesting. It's like free PayPerView. Or a badly scripted soap opera.  
  
A-hem.  
  
"How's lunch today Pie?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"What're you eating?"  
  
What a stupid question. "Pie."  
  
"Oh. Do you like pie?"  
  
"Yes, I like myself."  
  
"I mean to eat."  
  
"Who eats themselves?"  
  
"Pie, as in the food, not as in your name."  
  
"What's my name again?"  
  
"Pie Eater."  
  
"I wonder if I like pie..."  
  
A few of my conversations have gone like that. Seriously, some people are very dense.  
  
Skittery is the one who named me Pie Eater. I would have preferred 'Guru' or something—because Lord knows I'm wise—if he couldn't remember my name, but 'Pie Eater' is fine. How can you forget the name 'Garret'? it's pretty basic, I think. I'd certainly remember the name Garret.  
  
TV is rotting people's brains so that they can't remember the name 'Garret' but they can remember 'Pie Eater'. Selective TV hypnotism.  
  
The world doesn't make sense.  
  
Skittery's PoV  
  
"Do you boys need anything?"  
  
"No thanks Uncle Kloppman."  
  
Mr Kloppman went back down the stairs.  
  
Crutchy had lowered himself onto the bed and I was sitting at his desk. It's really amazing how well Crutchy can manoeuvre himself so easily, despite his disability. It's incredible itself that he can walk as fast as he does, but you should see him climb stairs. I'd probably fall fifty times more than he did. That would be fifty times.  
  
"How is everything?" asked Crutchy, leaning his crutches against the wall.  
  
"OK, everything's OK."  
  
"School?"  
  
I felt like I was talking to my grandfather.  
  
"School's fine, I met some new people."  
  
"Girls?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"One," I blushed. I knew what he meant by 'girls'.  
  
"Oh, who?"  
  
"Her name's Pigeon. She's the one who dyed my hair. She's just a friend."  
  
"Sure she is," Crutchy teased.  
  
"She's just a friend."  
  
Crutchy looked at me in obvious disbelief.  
  
"She's just a friend Crutchy. I have a—I have a—"  
  
"A what?" Crutchy bit his tongue in laughter.  
  
"A boyfriend."  
  
Crutchy stopped laughing. "You have a boyfriend?"  
  
"Yes," I drew myself up proudly. "I have a boyfriend."  
  
"You're gay?"  
  
I nodded, though slightly less brave due to the unnerving look he was giving me.  
  
"Wh—what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing." He was still looking at me that way.  
  
"Why are you looking at me like that?"  
  
Crutchy blinked, breaking his gaze. "Who is he?"  
  
"A twelfth grader at our school named Snoddy."  
  
"Are you serious? There are gay kids at our school?"  
  
"Yes. There are gay kids at our school."  
  
Crutchy looked embarrassed. "Sorry, I—I just didn't really notice before."  
  
"To be honest, neither did I. But it's surprising how many people you'll notice if you're looking for them," I said. It's true too, if you're 'on the watch' for gay kids you notice so many who are, or who possibly could be, gay.  
  
"Wow," Crutchy furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't know much about you, you know that? You're almost like a stranger."  
  
I was actually pretty shocked he would say something like that.  
  
"What do you want to know?"  
  
a/n: (starts singing 'Getting to know you' from The King and I) yeah! Review! 


	56. What's a Home?

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- thanks, I like writing new PoVs that I haven't done yet. I can make up new stuff... Whoo! Go livin' vicariously though fics!  
  
Strawberri Shake- (laughs and wipes eye) Swoots, sigh. I don't think anything's wrong with TV, that's Pies opinion. I love my Smallville...Tommy...and yeah, but Crutchy's head is in the clouds. Oh, and I saw The King And I at Stratford last year. I loved it!!! I had seen the movie and such, but I'd never seen the actual play before that.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- I don't know anyone named Garret. I do talk a lot though, when I'm in the right mood...or just about always!  
  
(Sunday)  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
"Catherine?"  
  
I looked up from the newspaper and fixed my gaze on the door. My sister had gone out to get groceries, but she wasn't accompanied by shopping bags.  
  
"Mom? Dad?"  
  
Catherine stood behind them looking sullen.  
  
At that moment I understood why people said 'my blood boiled'.  
  
"Anthony, please come home," my mom didn't hesitate to beg.  
  
"Now. Your mother has been very worried about you." It was more of an order than a suggestion. I noticed he didn't say he was worried.  
  
"Would you like to come in? I'll make you some coffee."  
  
My father looked around with a sneer. "No, I don't think we'll be staying long. Let's go Anthony."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
"Anthony," he said warningly, "now, we'll talk at home."  
  
"What's wrong with here? What's home? Dad, we don't have a home," I said bravely.  
  
I could tell he was getting frustrated because he was doing that weird calm thing he does.  
  
"Please Anthony," my mother was close to tears, "please come home."  
  
"Why?" I laughed nastily, "You didn't seem to care too much before. You didn't call Catherine. I bet you didn't call the police. You didn't seem too interested in me when I was at home. Admit it Mom, you only want what you can't have."  
  
Now she really was crying.  
  
"Look what you've done!" my father yelled, "You made your mother cry!"  
  
"No more than you ever did."  
  
My mother sobbed and my father turned pale. Somewhere in the kitchen Catherine fumbled with a kettle.  
  
My father found his voice. "We are gong home. Now."  
  
Look at what we'd become. They had to drag me out. I made my mother cry.  
  
Yesterday I would have blamed Michael, but the more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that it was all my fault.  
  
A/n: there you have it, Race is being dragged, kicking and screaming, from his, shall we say, sanctuary. Too bad. Poor Catherine. 


	57. The Power of Poetry

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Jacky Higgins- hey. You're gypping me off in the review department!  
  
Turpentine chaser- I agree, damn those homophobes!  
  
Erin Go Bragh- yeah she did, but she only did it in the best of interests. If I were him I'd blame my father...the pig!  
  
Snoddy's PoV  
  
She was sitting across from me at the table.  
  
"Bradley, want to hear what I wrote?" She looked up from her journal, beaming.  
  
"Sure Elizabeth, what's it about?"  
  
"Dad." She walked over and sat in the chair next to mine. The notebook was full of her miniscule, neat writing. It was a poem dedicated to our father.  
  
'Fathers' it was titled.  
  
_I know a man/ Who works/ Everyday/ In the city. /He makes deals/ With bankers/ And the world's most/ Powerful people./ He is merciless/ He is driven/ He is ambitious/ He is my daddy./ But every night/ He comes home/ And takes off his shoes/ And loosens his tie./ He kisses my mommy/ On the cheek/ And tells her he loves her./ Then we sit down for dinner/ My daddy/ Mommy/ Brother/ And me./ He asks me/ How my day was/ Then he tells me about his/ Even though I didn't ask./ After supper has ended/ And the dishes/ Are cleared/ He takes my brother and me/ For ice cream./  
But my friend's daddy/ Isn't like mine./ He doesn't work/ In the city/ He sits at home/ All day long/ And drinks beer/ And watches TV./ When my friend comes home/ He yells at her/ And sometimes she cries./ How come my daddy/ Is so different/ From her daddy?/ Mommy says/ That everyone has/ A daddy somewhere/ But I'm lucky/ To have a good daddy/ Who works in the city/ And tells her he loves her/ And takes us out for ice cream/ Because not everyone does.  
_  
"What do you think?" she asks when I look up.  
  
"It's great," I tell her, handing back to notebook.  
  
It's all true you know. Everything she wrote about my dad is true.  
  
I think back to the phone call when I told Skittery about my family. He'd asked about my mom and I had told him how she liked my friends. I hadn't told him about how she treats the people I don't like. I don't give my mom enough credit.  
  
I walked out to the balcony and lit up a cigarette. It burned for a while and I tapped the end into the ashtray. Truth is, I thought as I inhaled, my family was probably in pretty good shape. Sure, my mom gets on my nerves sometimes, but that's gotta be better than what happens between some people.  
  
Then I regret thinking this. I really don't want to mess everything up. I can't tell my family that I'm gay.  
  
A/n: that's the chapter that shows the relationship between Snoddy and his family. Kinda cute, kinda sad, kinda...I don't know. Just review.


	58. Pleasurable Suffering

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- I'm sorry that you didn't get a shoutout last chapter! Something went wrong...again. Anywho, Snoddy not being able to tell his family adds drama. Everybody loves drama.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- yeah, it would be sad...I hadn't really thought of what's going to happen.  
  
Strawberri Shake- OK, you get two shoutouts since I missed. You. This one's for chapter 56. I love Smallville! Go Tom and Kristen ( who is Canadian...in fact, Smallville is filmed in Vancouver...) And Race is most always right...  
  
(Monday)  
  
Bumlets' PoV  
  
I hate Spring. I used to think I liked Spring, but I hate her. She's turning my into a damn popular kid wannabe. She's dressing me, telling me how to walk, sit, eat stand, everything!  
  
I don't know what happened. I don't know how I let her push me around like she did.  
  
So I dumped her.  
  
Of course, she insisted on making a big deal out of it in the middle of the hallway by yelling and crying and turning heads.  
  
"You can't break up with me! You're just using me so I would buy you stuff and make you look good! That's it, isn't it?"  
  
"You mean so you could make me another hypnotized clone?" I'd asked.  
  
She didn't appear to understand and I didn't try to explain. I walked away. Behind me, a swarm of boys attempted to comfort her.  
  
I'm not sure what's supposed to happen next. I did, however, ruffle my hair as soon as I'd turned the corner.  
  
Racetrack's back home. He called me after school to tell me he could drive me to school tomorrow.  
  
Apparently he'd been at his sister's, but as soon as he was about to explain, his dad yelled in the background for him to get off the phone.  
  
In all my years of knowing Racetrack I've only met his father twice.  
  
I wonder what the occasion was to tempt him home...  
  
David's PoV  
  
I can't help but still like Jack. Even after what he did to Sarah I still want to grab him and hold him and know he's mine.  
  
I feel like such a fool, staring at him across the stage when no one is looking. He seems so coolly unaffected by my anger at him; he just flips his hair and paints another set. His arms are covered in splatterings of light blue and red and I can tell they've dried like that. All I really want to do is go over there and run my hands over his arms slowly, peeling off the dried remnants.  
  
How can he do this to me? How can he hold me in such a spell that I forget all about what I think is right and replace it with what I want to think is right?  
  
I want to hurt him, but at the same time I want to embrace him and tell him that I never hated him and I never loved him more.  
  
It feels like my heart is exploding into a million pieces, like my ribcage couldn't expand to fit it anymore and just gave up.  
  
Love is the best kind of suffering. You feel stifled, and know that the only way you'll ever feel free again is if he knows how you feel.  
  
I feel so good, but I'm suffocating.  
  
A/n: poor David, lusting over Jack like that. And Bumlets is right to wonder, I'd be curious as well... 


	59. Fairy Tales and Cycles

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- I dubbed that 'The Review of the 'Gos''. You should be happy. Thanks for catching up though!  
  
Swifty's PoV  
  
Ever since yesterday morning I've felt like I'm walking on air. It's all like a dream. Nothing like this ever happens. It's all too good. I can't get the guy.  
  
But I did. Boots is confused, though. He doesn't know what happened and this is mainly the reason I'm feeling nervous.  
  
What will I do if he doesn't show up for tutoring? Do I have the guts to call him? One thing for sure, I don't want to find out.  
  
Before Blink left for school this morning I talked to him about it.  
  
"Blink, what if he doesn't come?"  
  
"He'll come. Don't get so worried."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
"I'll make sure he rides the subway with me. I promise."  
  
"What if he's not even at school? Then what?"  
  
"Then he's sick. Swifty, what are you so worried about? He'll come."  
  
"It's not like you and Mush, I don't know how he feels. Goddamnit Blink, it's not a fuckin' fairy tale!"  
  
Then he shot me a look that is closest described as disgust.  
  
"I'm going to be late for school," he said quietly, and shut the door behind him.  
  
I haven't moved since he left, even though I know my shift starts in thirty minutes.  
  
Maybe I'll never move. Hopefully I'll never have to.  
  
Crutchy's PoV  
  
"I have a boyfriend!" It echoed throughout my head. Did Skittery really say that? Could he have possibly said that? Are people from certain families more likely to be homosexual? Skittery's family seems pretty normal, what makes them differ from everyone else? Are the majority of teenage boys gay? Maybe they just don't know how to identify such a thing.  
  
I wonder if I'm gay. I wonder if my other friends are too. Maybe every person in the world is 'bisexual' but it all depends on how they choose to express such an aspect of themselves.  
  
This all makes me shiver with a foreboding feeling. It's strange how little I know about myself. It's strange how little anyone knows about themselves.  
  
"Eric, ten minutes until dinner," called Uncle Kloppman up the stairs.  
  
He does something I like to call 'the dinner countdown' everyday. It starts at half-an-hour and slowly works its way down to five minutes. Somewhat like a military drill.  
  
Everything in my life is becoming so routine.  
  
Once I read that the only way to leave behind negative energy is to break out of routine and repetitive habits or cycles.  
  
I need to do something that I've never done before. Something that will free me from this self-destructive mode, especially after getting so mad at Skittery.  
  
I've got to find something to do...  
  
Maybe I'll be late for supper!  
  
Wait, that's not rebellious enough....what have I always wanted to do? The one thing I want more than anything in the world? And then it hit me, this plan could get me in _a lot_ of trouble.  
  
But I _had_ always wanted to meet my parents.  
  
A/n: Go Crutchy! Way to find your parents! Or try to! Whoo hoo! Review! (I rhymed!!!) 


	60. Blushing Over the Phone

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- Can't you picture Crutchy in a bandanna and war paint? And Boots will have his reasons....you'll see.  
  
Strawberri Shake- I still laugh every time I see 'Swoots'. I love Swifty, he's so cute! And Boots! And non-rebellious Crutchy! Aww! And (concerning chapter 58) yeah, David harbours that feeling that everyone has. Everyone in love, that is, so not me...and Bumlets and Racetrack were like the inseparable duo! I couldn't keep them spilt up forever!  
  
Specs' PoV  
  
"I watched it again."  
  
"Watched what?" I asked, clutching the cordless to my ear.  
  
"CAMP, I rented it."  
  
"Oh." Truth is, I could have watched it again too. I didn't really pay attention to what was going on in the movie. His _head_ was on my _shoulder_. My shoulder! I could smell his conditioner! "You liked it?"  
  
"Yeah. I want to go to a camp like that."  
  
"Uh Huh?" I bent down with the phone cradled on my shoulder and turned on my computer. "Why don't you?"  
  
"I don't know. I guess I'm a bit to old now."  
  
"You're only sixteen. You still could, couldn't you?"  
  
"Maybe. I wonder if there'd be a lot of gay boys at a camp like that. Like there was in the movie." Dutchy laughed.  
  
"Ha. Ha. Ha. If that's why you're going to a performing camp I'll be sure to come along."  
  
That made Dutchy laugh again. I love hearing him laugh. Dutchy isn't unfriendly, but he can be shy at times. Unless he's on stage, in which case he's very serious. So it's amazingly wonderful when he laughs.  
  
"I'd be OK with that," he said after he'd caught his breath.  
  
I blushed.  
  
"Woah, Specs, turn the heat down."  
  
"What?" How did he know that? How did he know I was blushing?  
  
"I know you're blushing. You blush at _everything_!"  
  
"I do not!" I blushed even more. Dammit! He knew me to well.  
  
"And again."  
  
"Dutchy..." how come you're the only person who knows all this?  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I love you too Specs. Don't be nervous, it's OK."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"It's fine. See you tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah, bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
And for a while, before I hung up, all I heard was the dial tone.  
  
Was I lucky to have someone like Dutchy? Was I lucky to have a boyfriend who knew what I was thinking?  
  
Oh yeah, it's boyfriend now. I asked him to go steady.  
  
A/n: aww! Dutchy and Specs are sooo cute! I love 'em! 


	61. Dr Stevens, Psyc

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- (dances around with a giant CAMP DVD) Whee! CAMP!!! Yeah, I love Sputchy. They're so cute and know each other so well, it's wonderful! And yeah, they're dating! Woot!  
  
Coin- hey, my chapters are like a healthy drug...always leaves you WANTING MORE!!!  
  
(Tuesday)  
  
Racetrack's PoV  
  
"Anthony, can you tell me about your childhood?" asked Dr Stevens, peering at me from behind iron-rimmed glasses.  
  
"What do you want to know?" I glared.  
  
Dr Stevens scribbled something in her notebook, which I could only imagine was along the lines of 'reluctant to discuss issues'. She re-crossed her legs and shuffled about in her office chair.  
  
"I want to know everything. About school, your friends, your family, that kind of thing."  
  
I'm pretty sure she wanted mostly to know about the last one, but I told her about the first one instead.  
  
"I've lived in the same place my whole life. I started school in junior kindergarten. My favourite—and best—subject has always been math. I like seeing how things add up, y'know?"  
  
Dr Stevens nodded.  
  
I was trying to sound as sweet and innocent as possible. There was no way in hell she was pinning our family problems on me.  
  
"And I always got good grades, except in PhysEd."  
  
"Really?" she looked interested, "And why do you think that is?"  
  
I shrugged. "I', not an athletic person, that's all."  
  
She took more notes and looked at a notepad she had. "But I see your grades started dropping around junior high, why?"  
  
Not this I definitely knew a good answer to. "That's when my dad made me take riding lessons. 'To become interested in mutual things' he'd said. But I didn't have much time for school anymore, so my grades started slipping."  
  
Dr Stevens nodded thoughtfully and wrote some more.  
  
"And friends?" she asked.  
  
"Oh, my best friend has been Bumlets since grade two, and once we got to high school I didn't really have many other friends. Until just recently, my mom's old college friend's son came over to my school and we hang out. We like the same things."  
  
Dr Stevens nodded again. "What kind of things?"  
  
And this is where things got weird. What was I supposed to say? 'We both like heavy metal'. Stuff like that doesn't sit well with adults. They think it's violent.  
  
"We both like...math." What a weak reason. I wouldn't believe she earned all of her degrees if she fell for it.  
  
But she let it slip and made more notes. "What is this boy's name?"  
  
"Itey."  
  
"Hmm..." for the first time she lowered her notepad. "I noticed that your friends have very original names. Are they nicknames by any chance?"  
  
Bravo Dr Stevens! You've cracked the code! They are nicknames! "Yes, Bumlets' real name is Dominic Messier and Itey's is Vincent Tadesco."  
  
"Do you have a nickname Anthony?" asked Dr Stevens.  
  
"Yes," Why was I telling this woman the truth again? "My friends call me Racetrack."  
  
"And why is that?" The notepad was back up.  
  
"Because I ride."  
  
"You ride? I understood that you quit when you started high school."  
  
"Yeah, but my dad signed me up again just recently," I admitted.  
  
Dr Stevens raised her eyebrows. "Without your permission?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
I didn't think she could, but her eyebrows rose higher into her brow line.  
  
=======================  
  
"He seems truthful enough in most areas. He didn't disclose his mutual interests with his friends, but other than that he was very open."  
  
I could hear my father's muttered response, somewhere along the lines of: "Not too much of a setback, considering this is the first session, correct?"  
  
"No, not a setback at all. Anthony was very cooperative. However, I'm worried about his nickname. Mr Higgins, are you aware that you son's friends call him 'Racetrack'?"  
  
My father said no, but my mother said, "I knew that, but I always thought it was just friendly. Just a little thing among friends."  
  
Dr Stevens cleared her throat. "I think that perhaps Anthony's nickname is his way of hiding from himself. A mask, a façade. Anthony is not a proud boy, I have a theory that he denies himself and, as a result, his name."  
  
They mulled over this for a few moments.  
  
"Thank you doctor. We'll see you on Saturday?"  
  
I jumped up and sat back in my chair. My mom, dad and Dr Stevens all passed through the oak doors.  
  
"Ready to go Anthony?" asked my mother quietly.  
  
A/n: I'm not sure why, but that's one of my favourite chapters so far. I love it! Review please! 


	62. Grounded

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- yeah, it does, but it made for a good plot device!!!  
  
Strawberri Shake- I was going to make it family therapy, but making it one on one was so much more interesting.  
  
Spot's PoV  
  
Racetrack and I sat across from each other at a diner. It was late Thursday night but I think Racetrack really needed to talk to someone.  
  
"She thinks I'm hiding behind my nickname Spot! How can you hide behind a name?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe it's a way to forget who you are?" I suggested.  
  
"But what's so wring with that?" Race flourished his chocolate milkshake- covered straw. "Sometimes it's good to forget who you are, sometimes it's good to forget all your problems, just for one minute."  
  
I shrugged. "Did she keep asking questions like 'And why do you thin that is' or 'How do you feel about that'?"  
  
Racetrack nodded. "That was about her parameter. She didn't ask much other than that." He paused to think, "How would you know that anyways?" he asked.  
  
So I explained to him about my mom and her short depression period and how I had to see tons of psychiatrists.  
  
Surprisingly, he smiled. "You can be my shrink guru. Tell me everything to expect! Since you've already been through it and all."  
  
And even though I was helping someone like I always was, I felt like this time I wanted something in return. I wanted to be appreciated for once.  
  
"Spot, have you talked to Sprinter yet?"  
  
Swifty's PoV  
  
Confirming my worst fears Boots didn't come yesterday or today. Needless to say I panicked. Where was he? Why hadn't he at least called?  
  
Tonight I finally got my answer.  
  
"Swifty?" Blink came in the front door. My heart sunk, seeing that Boots wasn't with him.  
  
"Where's Boots?" I asked.  
  
"Grounded."  
  
Oh, so he's 'come to his senses' and realized I'm no good for him. Fantastic.  
  
I lay down on my bed.  
  
"Swifty, do you know what being grounded is?"  
  
I told him that Boots had come to his senses.  
  
"No, Boots' parents won't let him have friends over, go to friends' houses, use the telephone, computer—"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because he didn't come home Friday night."  
  
"Oh." It was really terrible that Boots was 'grounded', but this meant that he wasn't avoiding me! He couldn't see me, but that wasn't his fault! It's a gift in a curse!  
  
Or, maybe he knew he'd get in trouble so he'd have a solid reason not to see me. Maybe he is avoiding me.  
  
A/n: how'd you like it? I like the diner scene, it's sweet and they care so mush about each other, but don't even know it yet! And Swifty's answer came, too bad it wasn't that good. Poor Swifty. Review! 


	63. Blunders During Pot Roast

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- Mr Higgins could benefit from some time in a mental institution. Or by living with a shrink. And of course Swifty doesn't know what grounding is, he's practically an orphan.  
  
Coin- yum, SpRace!  
  
Erin Go Bragh- he may be paranoid, but in a cute way.  
  
(Still Tuesday)  
  
Jack's PoV  
  
Arrow sat across the staff room going over a pile of papers. I turned my cup of coffee around in my palms to keep them warm. It was abnormally cold in the ring during lessons today.  
  
"What're you doing?" I asked her.  
  
She looked up. "Huh? Oh, studying for my World History finals."  
  
"Is it hard?" I pulled up a chair next to her. I had World History next term.  
  
"I just have trouble remembering names and dates and places. Well, matching them together, y'know?"  
  
I nodded.  
  
She put her pen down and looked at me. "Are you OK?"  
  
Arrow is quite an intellectual. She's the kind of person who likes to know how you're feeling and always has an opinion on everything. But that's a good thing.  
  
"I'm fine. I was—I was thinking about you this weekend." Was this being too forward?  
  
Arrow half-smiled. "Really?" Arrow never blushes.  
  
"Yeah, I had a really good time the other day with you."  
  
"I had a good time too, Jack," Arrow shifting and was fully facing me now, "but—"  
  
I flinched. There had to be a 'but'.  
  
"Don't get too ahead of yourself. It was just a date. Keep in mind Jack," she swallowed, "you're on the rebound. I could just be another fling."  
  
And that made my throat close. I couldn't speak. I had nothing to say for once. She thinks she's just a fling. Just a fling. It was just a rebound date.  
  
I found my voice. "Um..." I checked my watch, "I've got to go. Good luck with World History."  
  
I rushed to the door. Behind me Arrow called, "Bye Jack."  
  
I hadn't talked to her, but I knew that I had to. I had to ask Sarah where we were. Could Arrow really just be a rebound girl?  
  
Skittery's PoV  
  
"This is a very good pot roast Mrs Jones!" Pidge helped herself to seconds.  
  
"Why, thank you dear." My mom looked pleased. "But it's really Len—I mean, Mr Jones' mother's recipe and marinade. She was a wonderful cook." Of course my mother had to be modest; it was the Jones way.  
  
"Well than," Pidge turned to my father, "your mother has an excellent pot roast recipe."  
  
"Why thank you very much dear" My father smiled, obviously happy at Pigeon's thoughtful comments.  
  
Every night my family sit down to dinner in the kitchen, unless it's Sunday, Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving or someone's birthday, in which case we sit in the dining room. Oh, and when we have company.  
  
So, because Pidge is company, we're eating in the dining room.  
  
I think my mother has taken quite a liking to Pidge, after getting over the initial shock of the vibrant yellow 'Get Shucked' t-shirt, Pidge's choice for wear today.  
  
"Tonight's lasagne night at my house," says Pidge, "I like lasagne, but I like pot roast better, we only have it on Easter and when my Great-Aunt comes over."  
  
It's times like this when Pidge reminds me of a curious, bubbly six-year old. She's so perky, but in a childhood-innocence sort of way.  
  
My mom and dad are smiling, looking at each other, looking at me, looking at Pidge and looking at me again.  
  
Uh oh.  
  
My dad clears his throat. "How long have you kids been," uh oh, "dating for?"  
  
My mother leans in anxiously, ready to soak in the details.  
  
Pigeon laughs lightly, as if my dad has just made a bad joke. "Skittery's not my boyfriend. He's gay! He has his own boyfriend!"  
  
My mom's fork clatters to the plate from where it had been risen, halfway to her mouth. My father's face is slowly turning red. And then a very nasty shade of purple.  
  
Pidge is still grinning and blinking around like nothing is out of ordinary. Quite suddenly she asks, "Is dinner going to be over soon? I have an English exam tomorrow."  
  
My parents seem happy for any excuse for her to leave, ad within seconds Pigeon is out the door.  
  
"William," my father turns to me, "we have to talk."  
  
People are right, nothing good comes after those words.  
  
A/n: Pigeon! Way to screw up! But don't hate her everyone, she can't help it. And Arrow shut down Jack, suckah! Review! 


	64. Instant Messaging About George

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!

Shoutouts:

Kate- I can think of only one thing to say. 'Yes Ma'am!'

Coin- you should be right, except that I have to keep up the Angst. If everyone gets their way there'd be no longing, Angsty-ness!

Snitch's PoV

I was instant messaging Specs today after swim practice. I'll tell you, he does the weirdest butterfly I've ever…but wait, that's not the issue right now. Back to the instant messaging thing, he wanted to know about my gay uncles.

**4eyes2specs-**you did say your uncle was gay, right?

**IamNOTanarc-**unh hnnh…

**4eyes2specs-**I was just wondering

**4eyes2specs-**When'd they meet?

**IamNOTanarc-**Iunno. A few years ago. At a club I think.

**4eyes2specs-**Was 'Georgie Boy' playing?

**IamNOTanarc-**Who?

He sends me a song link; it's going quite well for Georgie Boy, who was kicked out of his family because of his homosexuality. Then he moved to New York and 'soon because the toast of the great whit' something or other. I think that's a good thing. But then 'a New Jersey gang with just one aim—to kill some innocent passer-by', kills him with a switchblade knife.

**IamNOTanarc-**Who sang that?

**4eyes2specs-**Rod Stewart

**IamNOTanarc-**It was…

**IamNOTanarc-**Disturbing

**4eyes2specs-**Yeah, I guess.

**4eyes2specs-**It was called 'The death of Georgie Boy'

**IamNOTanarc-**Doesn't that scare you?

**IamNOTanarc-**He died because he was gay

**4eyes2specs-**No

**4eyes2specs-**He died because he left before the play was over

**IamNOTanarc-**Where'd you get that?

**4eyes2specs-**When it said 'he left before the final curtain fell'

**IamNOTanarc-**Oh

**4eyes2specs-**and even if they killed him because he was gay, that wouldn't be so likely nowadays. The world is much more open.

**IamNOTanarc-**You make a good point

**4eyes2specs-**Thank you. I agree.

And then the subject changed for a while but I kept thinking about that song. Was thae fact that Georgie was gay have anything to do with the fact that he died? In the back of my mind something said 'of course, if he weren't gay he never would have moved to New York." Something else told me that the song wasn't about killing off homosexuals. Probably because Rod Stewart praises Georgie in the song

This was very confusing.

**IamNOTanarc-**Sorry, I've just realized I have something to do.

**4eyes2specs-**What???

Call my uncle to ask hjim about Georgie Boy.

**IamNOTanarc-**help my mom with dinner.

I logged off before he realized it was already ten o'clock.

A/n: muah ha ha, Specs..sigh. I love that song, but it's sad. Uh…review!


	65. What You Can and Can't Do

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Strawberri Shake- confession time, I don't really know why he cared so much either. It was just something to write about and I had to include that song! And my friend, Sparks (who Pigeon is based on) has been saying SexySpecsie forever!!! It's like her thing...or something. (in regards to chapter 63) I like Algebra. I'm good at it! And yeah, Pidge blurts out stuff like that all the time.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- I don't have any I'm system thingies. My computer is too slow...  
  
Jacky Higgins- woot! I got complimented on the format! Imagine that...whatever, a compliment is a compliment! Thanks!  
  
Just a random note, so everyone knows, Boots is all grown up in this fic. He's about sixteen and (if you can imagine) only just short of six feet. This was brought to my attention when SparkS said: "How big is Boots? Has he grown up at all?' and said: "Yeah, I guess. He's about sixteen'. Then she said: 'good, because otherwise Swifty could throw him around...' (I snickered) 'ew, not that way!'  
  
Uh, that's all! Enjoy!!!  
  
(Wednesday) 

-Crutchy's PoV-

"My parents know I'm gay," Skittery told me when we were walking to school this morning.

"Really?" My backpack slipped down my shoulder, due to my neglect of it in shock. "You told them?"

Skittery shook his head. "Pigeon told them."

My eyes widened. "Isn't she you—" fag hag? "friend? The one who dyed your hair?"

"Yeah, she didn't know not to tell them I guess." Skittery looked a bit worried and very, very stressed.

"Are you—" I faltered, "Are you in trouble?"

Skittery shook his head again. "My dad's in shock. I think my mom's in denial. She thinks it's a joke or something."

"Denial _s_ the first step," I said.

Skittery sighed and kicked a stone a good distance in front of us. "I guess."

"Don't be so down on yourself. You can't make yourself _not_ gay."

That's when Skittery stopped walking. "Where'd you come up with that?" he inquired, his eyes large causing the green of them to almost glow.

"I dun no. I just thought of it now." I tried to shrug. It's very difficult to shrug with a crutch.

"You're right," Skittery started walking again, "It's not _my_ fault, right? I can't be anyone but who I am."

I wanted to tell him like that sounded like a line from a cheesy song, but decided that it wasn't the best time. Instead I put on what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "Anyone but who you are," I echoed him.

This seemed like a good time to tell him, but I couldn't. I couldn't just say, out of the blue, 'I've decided to find my parents'. He still thought they were dead. But so far on one knew that I wanted to find them and how was I supposed to without help? I couldn't ask Uncle Kloppman, he's the one who has hidden all the evidence that ever existed. Skittery cared the most about learning who my parents were. So why was I so reluctant to tell the truth? After all, he'd told me.

-Itey's PoV-

I passed Bumlets in the hallway this morning. Bumlets! He was wearing his orange eyebrow rings again! He was also wearing his old Cradle of Filth t-shirt, baggy jeans and his wallet chains were hanging down his side.

"Bumlets," I called, "what happened?"

"With what?" He crossed the hall towards me.

"Your brush with the popular."

I knew he knew what I meant, but he pretended not to and shrugged.

"Where's Spring?" I asked. From what I knew of her she wouldn't like this.

"I broke up with her," said Bumlets simply.

From behind me came a pair of crushing arms, knocking the wind out of me.

"Itey!" I hugged Mountie back. "Oh, hi Bumlets. What happened to you?"

Go Mountie! Ask the questions that matter!

"_Nothing_ happened! I just broke up with Spring."

Mountie raised her eyebrows. "That's the biggest 'just' of the year. By lunchtime everyone will know that Spring dumped you."

"But she didn't. _I_ dumped _her_." Mountie nodded wisely, her braided hair bobbing up and down. "I know that you and you know that, but I'm pretty sure that's not the version she'll be telling everyone."

Bumlets opened his mouth to make another comment when the period bell sounded.

"C'mon Itey! We've got English." Mountie grabbed my arm and pulled me away.

"Bye Bumlets! I called over my shoulder, "See you at lunch!"

Bumlets waved goodbye and turned down the hall.

A/n: yeah! Bumlets is back! Go Bumlets! Sport that Mohawk! Review!!!


	66. Cancelling Gym

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Kate- um...was your review interrupted or something? It seems incomplete. And I don't think Spring will be heard from after this, it isn't planned at least.  
  
Coin- Bumlets couldn't be gone forever! He's too wonderful! We love him too much!  
  
Strawberri Shake- A taller Boots would be hot...real hot. And Mountie is my friend. I love Itey so she says that I can love him in reality. She really does like heavy metal. She has a really long jacket. It's really, really cool!  
  
Erin Go Bragh- Bumlets never really left, he was just...different and clone- like for a while.

(Still Wednesday)

Kid Blink's PoV

"OK boys, today we'll be doing Sex Ed instead of basketball." Coach Snyder was pacing in front of us nervously.

Groans of annoyance scattered throughout the crowd.

"Coach Snyder! They can't cancel basketball on us!" shouted Oscar Delancy from one of the side bleachers.

"Yeah! Especially for Sex Ed," agreed Morris from beside him. Do those kids go everywhere together? How'd they get in all the same classes?

"The school board demands that was teach children about sexual education. They choose to teach it in PhysEd classes. This is a mandatory class."

There were more scattered groans.

Coach Snyder cleared his throat and turned to the mobile blackboard behind him. "In the dictionary, 'sex' is defined a sexual attraction between people, or behaviour resulting from or motivated by this attraction." He began to write this on the board. When he got to 'between people' he just trailed off and turned back to the class.

"Don't you mean 'between a man and a woman'?" scoffed Oscar.

Snyder shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably for a second. "No, sex can be experienced between a woman and another woman as well as between a man and another man."

Morris coughed loudly, sounding amazingly close to 'doggy-style'. A number of boys snickered.

"But—" Coach Snyder continued, "Rarely do things like condoms and birth control work. Abstinence!" he shouted, turning once again to the board and writing 'Abs' before giving up.

I raised my hand. "But what about two people of the same gender?" I immediately regretted it.

Oscar whispered something to Morris and a kid dressed in all black, with two eyebrow rings swivelled to openly stare at me.

"Same sex intercourse can result in many sexually transmitted diseases," he wrote 'STD' on the board, "including AIDS." He wrote 'AIDS'.

Oh. OK. The boy with the eyebrow rings was still staring at me.

Snyder raped on the board with a ruler. "Mr Messier! Would you like to join the class?"

The boy with the eyebrow rings faced Snyder with a very ugly smirk on his face.

I sunk down as low as I could into the bleachers.

"If the black demon that is sex ever tempts you…"

==

"Hey! Kid with the eye patch!" called someone from behind me as I left. They grabbed my arm and I turned to face them. It was 'Mr Messier'.

"What do you want?" I asked, glaring a little.

"What was the deal with asking that question about homosexuals?" he said this in a purely curious way.

I laughed. "You're joking, aren't you?" I asked. Practically the whole school knew about Mush and I. I thought.

But Messier shook his head.

"_I'm_ gay," I said, gesturing to myself.

"Oh," Messier took a step backwards, "well…"

"I don't like _you_," I blurted.

Messier looked taken aback. "I—I didn't mean—"

"Never mind. I have to get to class." I turned and came face to face with Mush.

Mush's PoV

I rushed down the hall towards the East gym. I stumbled into someone going in the opposite direction, by the time I'd regained myself again the hallway had filled even more. Standing in the doorway of the gym was Blink and a kid wearing all black and had his hair spiked to an amazing height.

I tried calling to Blink but he didn't hear me. He was very flushed and as I fought through the crowds I heard snatches of conversation.

"What…deal…homosexual," said the kid.

"…joking…you?" asked Blink, "…gay!…like _you_!"

The kid looked very surprised after Blink said whatever he did. Blink turned to face me.

_What should I do?_ I asked myself. From what I'd just seen Blink was very open with this guy. It sure seemed like he could tell him the truth. He never told _me_ that he had feelings for me. But I couldn't say that, it would seem to 'jealous boyfriend'.

"Oh, hi Mush."

"Hi, who's this?"

Blink turned around and the kid introduced himself as Bumlets. "And this is Mush," he told Bumlets. I found Blink's hand and laced my fingers into his. He opened his palm so that my hand fell out of his.

"They're doing Sex Ed today," he told me before heading off down the hall.

What's going on here? Why is Blink suddenly so afraid to show that we're dating? What's the problem with people knowing he's my boyfriend?

He's the one who kissed me in the first place.

A/n: Sorry about that turn in the story. I know that Mush and Blink were cute, but it just couldn't work out. I sound like such a pessimist, but it's true. Review and tell me how mad you are at me.


	67. Who Can You Talk To?

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- the black demon thing made my friend laugh too. She said it was a good way to end a section.  
  
Shadowsdancingdragon- in our sex ed class a man teacher taught us. He told us where our...ahem...areas were and showed us condoms. They were flavoured! Chocolate, strawberry and vanilla. In Canada they tech safe sex, not abstinence.  
  
Strawberri Shake- I've caused quite a stir here with this Mush and Blink thing, haven't I? It's good for drama...as for the sex ed thing, see above shoutout. It's all true. And Bumlets is just curious, but he's messing up everything. Heh heh heh  
  
Checkmate- you sure have a brain-full of comparisons. I really didn't mean to make such a commotion. Then again, Mush and Blink are uber-cute...  
  
Erin Go Bragh- wow, the commotion is amazing.  
  
I think the Blush break up has fished out the most reviews yet! Who would have thunk it?  
  
Racetrack's PoV

"No therapy today?" asked Itey as I put my tray down at our lunch table.

"No, stupid shrink, blames it on my nickname. How can a _nickname_ cause problems?"

Itey shrugged. That's when I noticed there was a girl sitting next to him. She was staring at me with a very interested look on her face. She was wearing a large black Cradle of Filth t-shirt.

"Hi, I'm Racetrack."

"Mountie," she said. "I've heard about you. Nice to finally meet you." We shook hands.

Bumlets looked up from his gooey macaroni and cheese.

"You're not going to be missing school anymore?"

"No, my mom wouldn't stand for it. Said my education is the most important thing for me right now, always has been."

"Don't like your psychiatrist much?" asked Mountie.

"Nah, she's just doing what she's paid to do."

"What's that?" asked Bumlets.

"Blame all my problems on me. Just like my dad wants."

Itey snorted in laughter into his pudding.

I looked up at him, but in the process saw Spot sitting behind him. our eyes locked and I felt unexplained butterflies in my stomach. He waved slightly and I waved back.

Bumlets looked in the direction I was. "Who's that?" he asked.

"Oh, uh, that's Simon. I met him a while ago."

"And?"

"We talk about stuff. Y'know, in terms of my shrink and all. He's already been through it."

Bumlets looked offended. "I'd talk to you about that kind of thing."

"I tried calling you about, you hung up on me!"

"I was in _class_!"

"You didn't call me back! How was I supposed to know you were busy?"

"I _give up_!" Bumlets slammed his tray. "How am I supposed to know what's on your mind every fuckin' second? Go be friends with that damn psychic kid!"

Believe me, Bumlets doesn't get angry that often so that made it ten times scarier.

The worst of it all was that Spot never stopped watching us. He just sat at his table and observed mildly, why'd he always have to be so damn cool? Didn't anything make him panic?

A/n: I see a love forming!!! Muah ha ha! I rule the newsie universe! Go me!


	68. You Don't Know Me

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Fir3CatL0v3r- how can I be mad when you give me such a nice present? I won't be able to eat them though, how could I eat my newsies?  
  
Strawberri Shake- yeah, here it's all 'here kids, have a flavoured condom. Make sure you use it, 'cause we don't want y'all getting pregnant and dropping out of school'. They had strawberry, chocolate and vanilla. Song said 'why are they flavoured?' and I wanted to hit him. As for the Bumlets and Race thing, I think Bumlets was just upset that Racetrack feels he can't talk to him. Poor boy.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- of course Bumlets likes Race, but not in THAT way. He's just afraid that Racetrack has replaced him with someone when he was out on his popular stint.  
  
Coin- funny story, this. I was about to update and thought 'what happened to Coin?' so I checked my reviews again and, sure enough, there was an update from you. Thanks! Not only do I now own the newsie universe, I also own a very nice tray of newsie cookies from Fir3CatL0v3r!!!  
  
(Thursday)

Jack's PoV

"C'mon Sarah! You have to talk to me sometime."

"No I don't Jack. I've already forgotten you." She didn't even look at me, but continued to stare straight ahead.

"You haven't forgotten me! You can't have! I remember all about you! Your full name is Sarah Elizabeth Jacobs, you have two brothers, your favourite colour is pale yellow, you love the summer, your favourite food is vegetarian pizza, you want to be a dancer when you—"

"Jack," she finally stopped walking and faced me. "You don't know who I am anymore. In fact, I don't think you ever really did. Oh sure, you knew all my favourites and my name, but did you ever know about _me_? Who is the most influential person in my life? What song inspires me more than anything else? At which movie did I cry more than I ever had before? Jack, you know the stats, but you don't know about _me_."

I opened my mouth to talk, but she continued.

"Don't think you can forget abut me and then come crawling back the minute you need some clarification! The world doesn't work like that." And then she turned and kept walking.

I didn't follow her, what am I supposed to do? Am I still on the rebound? What am I supposed to do about Arrow? More importantly, about Sarah?

A/n: Sorry that it's so short, but it's the only PoV for Thursday. Please forgive me! I will make it up to you with the guarantee that next chapter will be super sweet! Promise!


	69. Driving in the Morning

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- Hair! Yeah! Do you know what I'm talking about? 'You don't know me'? What the hell is that? I hope I never actually hear that.  
  
(Friday)  
  
—Spot's PoV—  
  
My mom had to leave early for work this morning and I didn't feel like walking or taking the crowded, smelly bus to school, so I called Racetrack for a ride.  
  
"Hullo?"  
  
"Hi Race, it's Spot."  
  
"Oh, hi, yeah?"  
  
"Do you think you could give me a ride to school?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Happily, I sensed no hesitation in his answer. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he said after I gave him my address.  
  
=========================  
  
I was waiting on the rainy sidewalk when Racetrack's car pulled around the corner. In the front seat was his friend with the eyebrow rings and in the back was a boy and a girl dressed in all black and band t-shirts.  
  
I opened the back door and slid in. "Thanks Race."  
  
"NO problem. This is Bumlets, Itey and Mountie," he told me, "and this is Spot," he told everyone else.  
  
"Hi Spot!" exclaimed Mountie. "Do you like corn?"  
  
This seemed like a very odd question, but I answered anyways. "Sure, I like corn. Gut not creamed, it tastes weird."  
  
Mountie laughed and pointed to her shirt, which read 'Korn'. "I mean Korn, as in the band."  
  
"Who?" I looked to Racetrack for explanation.  
  
"Hey, don't look at me. I don't know who Korn is either. One of Mountie and Itey's similarities." Race turned in the drivers seat to face me.  
  
"Uh, what kind of music do they play?" I asked.  
  
But before anyone could answer Bumlets shouted, "Dammit Race! Look where you're going!"  
  
Racetrack swerved back into the correct lane, narrowly missing a passing car.  
  
"Race! What are you doing?" Bumlets sat up.  
  
Next to me Itey and Mountie had tumbled into the car door. Itey looked happily sandwiched between Mountie and the window.  
  
"I don't know! I'm really sorry! Is everyone OK?" He attempted to turn and look at the back, but Bumlets grabbed his shoulders and faced him towards the front of the car.  
  
"Just face the road. Everybody's OK." Bumlets shot Racetrack a look that clearly read 'what the hell are you doing?'  
  
We reached the school, Racetrack parked, and everyone piled out of the car.  
  
"See you later?" I asked Race. "Nice to meet you all." I waved and headed for the school.  
  
"What's wrong with you anyways Race? Is Spot too distracting to drive with or something?" I heard Bumlets hiss as I walked away.  
  
I ignored it, just a few words between friends, after all.  
  
A/n: I promised sweet and I hope I delivered. Tell me if I did! What do you think? Review!!! 


	70. Prison Sentences

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- I didn't know how famous they are everywhere. They ARE Canadian, however, but I don't think Mountie (the real one) likes them as much as Cradle of Filth.  
  
Strawberri Shake- I dunno what happened. I guess I didn't get the review in time, sorry. Heh heh heh, shex-ay Spotty.

(Still Friday)

—Boots' PoV—

Payphones! Why hadn't I thought of that? I can no longer use the phone, Internet, mailing system, fax…uh…messenger pigeon, or any other means of communication until two Friday s from now. Such a punishment is being grounded.

Because of my little excursion to Swifty's last Friday my parents have posted a lost of punishments on the bathroom door. They're like prison sentences.

_Incompleted Chores—one dollar allowance deduction_

_Talking Back—no Internet use for 24 hours_

_Below Average Grades—no weekly allowance (per. mark)_

_School Detention—no phone usage and only school-related Internet usage_

_Breaking Curfew—one week grounding_

_Misinformation of Whereabouts—one week grounding_

_Petty Crime/Vandalism—three weeks (min.) grounding_

My offending action was a combination of 'Breaking Curfew' and 'Misinformation of Whereabouts' so it has been decided that I should receive two weeks grounding.

No phone, allowance, Internet, friends, or contact with the outside world, other than school.

But _at_ school they can't stop me from using the payphone, and during I did just that.

I scrambled about in my pockets, searching for quarters. I couldn't find any so I had to use a combination of nickels and dimes.

Luckily, Swifty picked up. Then again, who else would? Swifty's almost always home. Except when he's working.

"Hello, Swifty? It's Boots."

"Oh, hi. Blink told me you were grounded. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Listen, about the tutoring thing…"

—Bumlets' PoV—

Something was definitely wrong with Racetrack this morning. He nearly killed us before we even got to school.

This morning we picked up that kid he can 'talk to', Spot or whatever. So we were driving and Spot asked 'what's Korn?' or something to that nature, and race turned _while driving_ to answer him. The he _stared_ at Spot for a few minutes, and in the process swerved into the opposite lane! Because he was _staring _at _Spot_! Spot's a boy!

Luckily, I ran into the eye patch kid in the hall.

"Do you stare at your boyfriend sometimes?" I asked him.

He looked at me like I was insane. "Why?"

"I…I was just wondering, do you?"

"Um, sometimes I guess I do."

"Did you before you knew you were gay?"

"I…" he thought about this for a moment. "I don't know. What's this about anyways?"

"My—uh—my best friend almost crashed this morning because he was staring at some kid in the back seat."

"Are you serious?"

I nodded.

"Where'd they meet?"

You know, that was a good question. I honestly had no idea where Race had met Spot. "I don't know."

"Messier," he said, "that may make all the difference."

A/n: that's all. Poor Boots haveing those punishments on the bathroom door. That would SUCK! Do you know what else would? If you didn't review, so go do it now!


	71. Missing Pictures And Blink

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Jacky Higgins- I realized the same thing a few days ago. I write this fiction out in my notebook before I type it up (although it should be 'notebooks'. I've used a notepad and two notebooks so far) and I discovered that it's getting ridiculously long. I know how it's going to end and I'm rounding it up. However, I'm much father ahead in the writing par than I am in the posting part, so this fic may reach around 100 chapters, no lies.  
  
Coin- Hon, to be honest, that's a little scary. I'm pretty sure my friend who likes Korn wears a bra, even though she wears boy's clothes sometimes. In the sixth grade I was one of those kids who always wanted piggyback rides. Now I wouldn't...unless of course a hot newsie was carrying me...  
  
Strawberri Shake- my parents would probably ground my ass as fast as they could if I was out all night and didn't call. I'm not sure that they would post a sign on the bathroom door, but I would face lots and lost of punishment.  
  
(Still Friday)  
  
—Crutchy's PoV—  
  
"Uncle Kloppman, what happened to my parents?"  
  
"Shut up Skittery."  
  
"Crutchy, what's the matter with saying that? He has to know, maybe he just thought you never wanted to know about them before."  
  
"Yeah right Skittery, why wouldn't there be any pictures of them if he didn't care if I knew about them?"  
  
Skittery had taken the news that my parents were really gone pretty well. Much better than he had reacted when I told him they were dead. Maybe death is a more frightening thing in Skittery's family.  
  
I placed my crutch on the school steps and hoisted myself up bit by bit.  
  
"I'm not talking to my uncle about my parents."  
  
But, apparently, he had already left that topic and was watching me struggle up the stairs.  
  
"How do you do this every morning?" he asked from the top of the stairs.  
  
"I don't know I get used to it."  
  
Skittery looked around slowly. "Don't they need a ramp? Isn't it policy or something?" he asked when I reached his side.  
  
"I don't know, it's always been this way," I said.  
  
He held the door for me and I went inside. The hallway was crowded and Skittery fought to stay beside me.  
  
"You never tried to do anything about it? Ever?"  
  
"Skittery, I can't think about it right now! I need to find my parents!"  
  
"Right, sorry. But this is my new project."  
  
"Whatever Skittery, I have to get to class."  
  
—Mush's PoV—  
  
I saw them together again today. Blink and that spiky haired kid. Except today his hair was Mohawked instead of plain spiked up.  
  
They were talking rush and frantic, as if what they were saying had to be said fast or they'd forget it.  
  
I heard something about meeting and I hate to admit it, but my blood boiled. They're meeting? How can Blink meet with this guy who he just met and who knows he's gay? Something's not right, this just isn't fair! Blink can't be connected to this guy after taking so long to be connected to me!  
  
What can I say though? I can't ask him about what's going on between him and that spiky-haired kid; I'd sound too clingy, too needy. He'd have to reassure me that he's mine and eventually get up with doing so and dump me! He would dump me and I, Scott Meyers, would be single. Flying solo. Singing alone on my cruise ship. And just about every other clichéd 'single' term you can think of.  
  
So, you see, I am fixed with quite a dilemma. Either be dumped for being clingy or be dumped because Blink has a much better time with that spiky- haired kid and his metal-loving ass.  
  
I keep replaying each scenario over and over again and it only makes me panic more, instead of clearing my mind.  
  
I really wish someone would make these decisions for me like when I was younger.  
  
When did life get so hard anyways?

A/n: so Skittery's taking on the helpful dude role and Mush is growing more and more jealours by the second. What would YOU do in Mush's shoes? Would you talk to Blink or let him slip away? Is that a song lyric? Review!


	72. Rocky

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!

Shoutouts:

Bobcat:Slashgoil- that would be nice, wouldn't it? But no…ha ha ha! I'm evil!!! (more manic laughter)

Coin- don't worry, I couldn't stand to pair Bumlets with Blink, he's one of the signature straight guys in this fic, they can't all be gay, now can they? Or could they… (runs off to scheme)

Strawberri Shake- isn't it though? Bumlets is like the screw-upper of the century!

(Still Friday)

—Racetrack's PoV—

Sot's eyes…they're different. I know what I'm about to say has probably been used in every single love story ever, but it was like I was swimming in them. They are so blue that I forgot where I was. I forgot who I was. I forgot who _he_ was.

I remember now, however, and I know it's wrong. I know everything and nothing about him. I haven't known him long enough to feel this way, let alone that he's the same _gender_ as me.

I want to swim in his eyes again. I never want to swim in his eyes again. I don't know what I want.

I've decided that I'll no longer think of it as swimming, it's drowning, suffocating. It's like plunging into quicksand. I'll pretend to feel it forcing in on me, pressing in on my chest so I can't breathe. Maybe if this beauty makes me want to die I'll no longer love it.

I'll no longer _love_ it. Hear that? I love it already. I don't know what love is. I've never been loved before. By anyone. The love of a mother con only go so far, and who says that was even love? It was forced love, the worst love ever.

Anthony Higgins has never felt a good love. He can't, it's like a curse, an aura. It follows him everywhere, chasing away everything good.

Except Spot.

Anthony Higgins can't know love, but what about Racetrack?

—Swifty's PoV—

I think I'm suffering from Boots withdrawal. He's gone and I can't stop thinking about him. I won't be able to see him for two weeks, but it seems like an eternity.

I realized how lonely I m after Boots called me. After Boots leaves for school I have no one to talk to. I have no one to call and nowhere to go.

It really got to me so I glued googly eyes onto a rock and talked to it. Mostly about Boots, but other stuff as well. I named my rock Rocky, a very orginal name, if I do say so myself.

"Rocky, how are you doing?" I asked him.

He didn't answer.

"Oh, so you're the strong, silent type, eh? I guess that means you're a good listener though."

Still no answer, but what did I expect? He is a rock, after all.

Eventually I fell asleep talking to Rocky and I almost missed my afternoon shift at the grocery store. My hours are now longer and later in the day since I have no Boots to look forward to.

Is it amazingly pathetic how my life revolves around him?

A/n: heh heh, Swifty literally has a pet rock! Sorry all, I won't be able to update until the 24 th, seeing as I'm in Montreal. Review anyways please?


	73. Loners, Left Field, Eyebrows

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R! 

Shoutouts:

Hey, guys! I'm back! I saw SOME hot Montreal boys, but the best was this one guy who looked like Specs. We talked for a while at the Olympic tower. It went something like this:

**Me-** What is number 27?

**Him-** uh…(checks board telling you what it is) it's a television tower…

**Me-** oh, that's…interesting.

**Him-** and number 26 is Mount Royale itself, and number 25 is (some French word)

**Me- **hnnh?

**Him-** oh, I'm bilingual, so I can help if you need a translator.

**Me-** uh, yeah. I can't speak French.

**Him-** oh…

**Mountie **(who was also on the trip)**-** I can only say 'Je ne comprend pas'.

** Mountie&Me-** (laugh)

Then later I took his picture. He had the same camera as me!!! (a Canon 2000 Rebel) Isn't that cool? As of now Specs is my third favourite. So now it goes Itey, Dutchy, Specs, Blink.

Erin Go Bragh- I don't know where Rocky came from, it was in a moment of writers block and Salvester Salone or something.

Bobcat:Slashgoil- I though everyone would go 'what the hell is she doing? Since when does Swifty talk to a rock?' but I was wrong, everyone loves Rocky!!! And I'm telling you, they DON'T WANT TO HAVE SEX! There's a difference between what you want and what they want.

Coin- once again with the Rocky! Everyone loves him! I should do a spin-off called 'Rocky, the thought behind the rock'. It would be a Tragedy/Drama and it would be a hit!

Strawberri Shake- again with the Rocky! And they'll end up together…wait…(checks notebook) well, let's just say you'll find out…

(Still Friday)

—Jack's PoV—

I've always been a loner. By saying this I don't mean in a negative way, I just never really had any friends and I never had a need for them.

I think that that's what Aaron really needed, a friend, someone to talk to. This makes me feel guilty because when he tried to talk to me I just told Dad. I regret telling him now because I need someone to talk to and I can't.

By 'I can't', I mean I don't have the courage to talk to him. I know where he's staying; I found a message on our answering machine a couple of weeks after he left telling Lydia where he was. This is purely a courage thing; I'm not brave enough to talk to him after what I did to him. Then again, lack of courage got me into this mess in the first place. I didn't have the courage to talk to Sarah, I didn't have the courage to tell Arrow that I wasn't on the rebound, I don't have the courage to do anything.

I think the real problem is pride, I think I'm preserving it, but what good is pride without doing something courageous to prove you have it? It's like a horse without a rider. It's useless. Complete and utterly useless.

—Pie Eater's PoV—

Something just flew out of left field and hit me in the side of the face. We're not talking gym class; I mean something I never expected just happened. Spot. Spot happened. Actually, I should correct myself on this, to be truthful, Skittery happened. Now, because of Skittery, Boots is indefinitely gay and Spot stares at some kid from across the lunchroom. Skittery is turning everyone gay. I am the only straight person at our lunch table. Well, and Pidge, but she shouldn't count. You never see her without Skittery and vice versa.

But anyways, I didn't see this coming. All the conversation and problem swapping couldn't have prepared me for it. I never would have guessed Sot. I don't think Spot, himself would have believed it if I told him.

Things have gotten too weird. I don't think I should even bother trying to figure everything out right now. How do people get themselves into stuff like this anyways? Life is so straightforward.

—David's PoV—

"Jack tried talking to me," said Sarah gloomily from the kitchen table.

My heart skipped at his name. I swallowed nervously. "And?"

"And I blew him off," she scoffed, remembering the incident. "He said he remembered all about me. That he still 'knew me'."

That's when I knew. That's when I knew Sarah was really over Jack. She spoke as though she felt sorry for the guilty party. Almost as though the way Jack was acting was pathetic. On some level I agree, why is he crawling back to Sarah anyways?

I must admit, I'm jealous of Sarah. There must be hundreds of gay guys in New York but I had to pick a straight one who likes my sister.

I walked to my cramped room in the corner of our apartment and shut the door behind me. I pulled a chair up to my dresser and stared at myself in the mirror. What was wrong with me? Curly hair, contrasting blue eyes, pointy lips and eyebrows. Distinctly noticeable eyebrows. They're like friggin caterpillars. Maybe my eyebrows scare people away. I seriously don't doubt that.

Next I walked to the bathroom and dug around in the drawers until I found Sarah's tweezers. I kept _trying_ to pluck at the flyaway hairs the tweezers slipped and I didn't manage to remove a single one. I got extremely frustrated, grabbed my razor, and shaved them gone. When I realized what I had done I threw the razor into the garbage and ran back to my room.

Instead of caterpillar-esque I now have no eyebrows at all and two lumps where they used to rest.

The only person I blame right now is Jack.

A/n: David shaved off his eyebrows! What a silly boy! Sorry for the three short PoVs, but that's the way it is… review please! If not about the story, just about how much you missed me while I was away… (hint, hint)


	74. Mean Michael Higgins

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Bobcat:Slashgoil- I missed my fanfiction too. On the second day I was walking back to the bus and randomly said 'I miss my computer! I haven't been online for twenty-four hours!'. Almost everyone agreed. My friend, SparkS, doesn't like the eyebrow thing. She says it's weird.  
  
Coin- maybe I should leave more often, it makes me feel exceptionally loved when I come back. And who doesn't love Pie Eater? Answer: no one!  
  
Almatari-of-Arda- uh, this wasn't the funny story, it's the Angsty one. But thanks anyways for the review!  
  
Strawberri Shake- I love Montreal. I want to move there, except for the French part, I don't like it. The Specs-guy was cool! And I never liked Jack mush either, he always bugged me...  
  
Erin Go Bragh- uh...you're scaring me. What's 'double tongue'? And yeah, Aaron is Swifty/Jack's half-brother. I don't think Pie Eater's homophobic. I didn't mean to make it out that way.  
  


(Saturday)

—Racetrack's PoV—

"When I was about six my brother, Michael was out in the front yard and I went outside to see him. He was playing football with of his friends and some girls were watching. I gave him a hug and I thin his friends laughed so he pushed me off, then I asked if I could play with them and he said no. His friend Doug told me to get lost and when I wouldn't, Michael picked me up and threw me across the lawn. I broke my arm. The girls got mad at Doug and Michael and wouldn't talk to them."

Dr Stevens nodded and her rapid note taking slowed. "What happened to Doug and Michael after that?"

"Michael hated me and Doug ignored me. That's kinda when we started to drift apart as brothers."

"And why do you think Michael was o mad at you?"

I shrugged. "Girls talk, soon everyone knew about that 'Mean Michael Higgins'. I guess he found it hard to get laid."

Dr Stevens looked shocked. "Do you really think that's the root of your problems with your brother?" she asked with her eyebrows raised. "The fact that you prevented your brother from _sex_?'

I wasn't even making this up; it was practically a proven fact. "Oh, definitely."

From her deep leather chair Dr Stevens surveyed me as if for the first time. "You're really telling the truth, aren't you Anthony?" She seemed utterly bewildered.

I blinked. "Yes, why wouldn't I?"

For an unknown reason Dr Stevens looked taken aback. In an attempt to regain her cool nature she exhaled and glanced down at her notepad. Clearing her throat, Dr Stevens asked, "What about your nickname? How'd you come around with 'Racetrack'?"

"I used to ride." This woman wasn't very good at fitting the pieces together.

"Is that all? You never go down to the tracks? Gamble a bit? Maybe drink a little?"

I couldn't believe this. Why was this woman asking questions like this? Sure, I smoke the occasional cigar and I've had alcohol at special events, but I've never gambled.

"I don't gamble or drink," I said mildly.

"But you go down to the tracks?"

I shrugged. "I've been."

"So Racetrack," she smirked, "you _loiter_ down at the racetracks?"

I scowled. "No one who works for my _father_ calls me 'Racetrack'."

a/n: gotta hate Dr Stevens. Then again, why wouldn't you? She's questioning our poor Racetrack's nickname! What an evil lady!


	75. Explanation

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Almatari-of-Arda- she's a bitch because I wrote her that way. It's more interesting. And I have no idea as to the Angst thing, it's just the way it is I guess.  
  
Hotspotslingshot- modern day  
  
Jacky Higgins- I did read and review one of your works. Happy? It was good. And Michael is pure EVIL! Oh, and I forgive your plug.  
  
Strawberri Shake- Dr Stevens...not a happy ending for her... mush ha ha! Actually, I don't think she'll end up having a definite ending, but whatever.  
  
Coin- luckily my parents don't know about my nickname. I plan to keep it that way...  
  
Erin Go Bragh- hmm. Double tonguing, curious.... That's cool-ish I guess.  
  
(Still Saturday)

I rang Skittery's doorbell around noon.

A woman who I assumed was his mother opened the door, her face fell at the sight of me

"Hi, I'm here for Skittery."

She looked me over slowly before answering. "I'm sure you are."

Seconds later Skittery appeared in the hallway.

"Snoddy, what are you doing here?" he looked genuinely surprised. His mother looked smug.

I shifted from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "Uh, Skitts, we're supposed to be meeting today at noon, remember? We talked about it on the phone…"

A look came over Skittery's face that could only be described as sudden remembrance.

"Mom, Snoddy and I will be in my room, OK?" he made for the stairs.

She cleared her throat. "Actually, William, I'd prefer if you stayed down here. In the living room or the kitchen."

Skittery shrugged and led me to the finely furnished room. it had two identical brown leather couches around a heavy wooden table. Skittery sat on one of the couches and I sat beside him.

"Listen, Snoddy," he said, "I'll have to postpone out," he paused, looked around and then whispered, "date."

"Why?" Was he blowing me off?

"Well, two reasons really, my friend Crutchy a few houses down has a physical disability and our school doesn't have an entrance ramp for him so I'm trying to organize a petition to get one built," he took a breath, "and Pidge let it slip to my parents that I'm gay. They haven't gotten over the initial shock yet."

So that explained the cold shoulder from his mom. "And they won't let you see me?"

"I don't know, I just don't want to force all this onto them right now, it's a lot for them to take in."

I tensed. His parents had no problem with us, Skittery's the one who's afraid of us. I kept running this through my head and it sounded _bad_.

"Is that OK?" Skittery leaned forward, gazing at me with wide eyes.

"Yeah, it's—" I swallowed and my stomach lurched. "It's fine. Listen, I have to go." And without further explanation I stood up and walked out of his house.

A/n: poor Swifty. Was Skittery really just standing him up? What do you think?


	76. Being Ignored

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Erin Go Bragh- you're right about the Snoddy thing. I get Swifty and Snoddy mixed up sometimes. Like the other day I was writing and said 'Wait! Who did I pair Skittery with? Must not be Swifty…Swifty can't be a player!' Turns out I was wrong. And I agree also about you hypothesis, they do have to work things out FAST! 

Jacky Higgins- to bad about you and your ex-friend. Glad you liked the chapter though! I wouldn't think Skittery would be standing him up either, but things can change!

Coin- must they? Maybe I have bigger plans for them… (goes off to scheme)

Stawberri Shake- I know. Read Erin Go Bragh's shoutout, it explains my thinking. If any… as for Dr Stevens, don't push her off! She has a vital part later. Promise.

**Anyways!** I have finished writing the whole fic! I know how everything works out. I finished it last night around one in the morning listening to my Discman. I'll give you a hint: I'm a sucker for happy endings. Although at least…one doesn't have a happy ending. Who? READ AND FIND OUT!

(Still Saturday)

—Boots' PoV—

"Dad, can I—"

"Marilyn, where's that boy?"

"Dad, I need a—"

"Have you seen him anywhere?"

My mom didn't answer.

"Could you possibly—"

"What was his name again? Bernard?"

"DAD I'M RIGHT _HERE_!"

"Please Benjamin, don't yell in the house," requested my mother quietly.

"Oh, there you are boy. Where've you been?" My dad acted like he was seeing me for the first time.

"Nowhere, I'm _grounded_," I said, frowning.

"Don't you give me lip. You got two weeks and that was lucky."

"I need a ride to soccer practice."

"You can walk." He sneered, pleased by his decision.

"It's fifty blocks!" I could not believe this.

"Better hurry then!" he said cheerfully before leaving the room.

I ran to my room to find my duffel bag and passed the bathroom. I pulled a pen out of my pocket.

_No Transportation Services_ I scrawled on the prison sentences.

I am going to be in so much trouble. Sorry Swifty.

—Bumlets' PoV—

I am amazingly bored. You can only watch so much Saturday morning TV before going insane. Mental.

"Itey, what're you doing?"

"I'm at my house."

"Well, obviously, I _did_ call your home phone."

"Oh. I'm playing X-Box with Mountie."

"Oh, OK then."

"You could—" pause "come over if you want."

The pause makes me uncomfortable, like I'm intruding.

"No, that's—that's OK."

I hung up the phone and turned off the TV.

There's no Itey, he's been stolen by Mountie. No Racetrack, he's been stolen by his shrink. Oh, and that Spot kid, the one Race is in love with. What happened to us?

A/n: oh, look at this: Bumlets is regretting his actions against Racetrack! And Boots is rebelling against the prison sentences! What will happen next…?


	77. Stuff Happens

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- yeah, Boots is a badass, isn't he? Writing on the sheet like that...  
  
Almatari-of-Arda- thanks. I'll try, but there are teams from ITALY there. That's far, far away! They'll speak Italian and I won't know what they're saying!  
  
Strawberri Shake- yeah, romance. That's my plan... fallin' in love over X-Box, how can you go wrong?  
  


**This is the super-long chapter because I'm going to be away for over a week and won't be able to update. Hope this holds you for now. Please review and tell me if you like how the story is going. **

(Sunday)

—Jack's PoV—

"Hi Jack."

"Hullo."

"Are you…are you OK?"

"I'm fine."

"Well, then do you mind sitting up? You're lying across the whole table and I can't put my stuff down."

I glanced up at Arrow and straightened so I took up much less of the table.

"Thank you." She set her books on the table. World History. Again.

"Aren't you done World History?" I asked. Maybe she failed. Then she'd be in my class next term.

"No. I like World History."

Oh, that's right, Arrow's _smart_. "OK."

"Listen, Jack, about what I said before, don't take it the wrong way. I just don't want to get hurt. You're insecure right now, just take some time off for a while."

I don't _want_ to 'take some time off'. I want to know what's going on with Sarah so I can set things right with Arrow.

Unless…

"Arrow, are you blowing me off?"

She flushed. "No, why would you think that?"

_Because I'm deviously handsome and equally charming_ I though of saying, but decided it wasn't a good time for jokes.

"Why are you blushing?"

"Jack," she danced gracefully around the topic. "I need to get to my reading. Now, if you don't mind." She held a textbook in front of her face. Conversation over.

—Crutchy's PoV—

_And please God, bring my mother and father here to me. I really need some answers and I don't know where to find them._

"Eric, are you ready to go?" Uncle Kloppman stood at the end of the pew, waiting.

_Amen._

"I'm coming." I crossed myself and hurried after him the best I could.

"I'm so happy that you came with me today. You don't know how much it means to me. You parents were never ones for religion, and being your uncle I didn't feel I had to right to impress my—"

"My who?"

Uncle Kloppman realized his slip-up and a look of terror came over his face.

_Thank you God!_

"Where are they?"

"I don't know."

"They don't write you? They don't want to know about me?"

"Eric, son, I don't know any—"

"I'm not your son! Only my _father_ can call me that and I don't have one! I don't have a mother either! I don't know anything about _me_!"

"Eric, calm down, let's go somewhere private and I'll explain everything I know. I promise."

(Monday)

—Mush's PoV—

"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you on something? Do you need any help in you _head_?" Blink stood beside me, yelling his head off at what I'd just done.

I didn't answer, staring at Bumlets' limp body in the ground.

"Mush! Look at me! Why the fuck did you do that?"

_Because I'm jealous._

"Answer me! Look at me! For God's sake, say _something_!"

I cleared my throat and blinked a few times.

"What is going on with you and Bumlets?" I asked.

Blink looked at me like he didn't believe what I'd just said. "What? Goddamit Mush, what're you talking about?"

"Him. Do you like him?"

"No, he's just in my guy class."

Bumlets groaned and turned over.

"Mush, just get to class. I'll take him to the nurse."

I watched him walk away. My beautiful Blink. I think I just destroyed any chance we had.

—Skittery's PoV—

"What're you doing here?" Pigeon plunked down beside me and sprawled her books across the table.

"I'm researching." I pushed back one of her books which had covered my charts and diagrams.

"Health project?" she guessed, eyeing one of the textbooks that read _Handicaps of the Modern World_.

"No." I told her about what I was doing for Crutchy.

"Do you like him?" she asked sceptically.

"What about Snoddy?" I asked, amazed that she would think such a thing.

"Well, I thought maybe you didn't like him anymore. I know how you blew him of the other day and everything."

How does she know this stuff? Who s her information source anyways? Peter Parker?

"I didn't blow him off. I had to work _and_ I doubt my parents would let my leave the house after _you_ let it slip that I was gay."

Pigeon's eyes bulged and she stared at me with a look of disbelief. "How was I supposed to know you hadn't told them? I thought you were brave, doing what you believed. What good is doing something rebellious if no one knows about it?"

"Pidge!" I shouted, ignoring the librarian's hushing. "I'm not gay because it's rebellious, I'm gay because it's _who I am_!"

Pigeon looked at me, eyes tearing, before she picked up her books and stormed from the room.

The librarian glared, I snapped my book shut and followed Pidge out the door. When I reached the hall she was gone.

—Spot's PoV—

Sometimes, without noticing, I catch myself thinking dreamily about Racetrack. I don't even know why, it's just the way he was staring at me the other day. Like I was amazing. Like he was enthralled by something that was plastered on my face. It felt good.

I don't think I've reacted this way to anyone before. I want to scream at him for making me feel so helpless, but I also want to jump on him and yell 'fuck me!'

This is strange. It's abnormal and the weirdest thing I've ever been through. How can it be right? With Sprinter everything _fit_. She was a girl and I was a guy, it was the way things were supposed to be.

If I'm right how come I'm falling in love with a loudmouth Italian boy?

People always turn to me with their problems, what do I do about mine? I'm completely clueless in this area, so far I've just been guessing my way through life, hoping that everything would work. Hoping that everything would turn out all right.

—David's PoV—

"What the hell is wrong with your face?"

I shrugged and pulled my hat further down my forehead.

"David," Sarah pulled at my hat, "David, show me!"

Off came the hat.

"Holy shit, what happened?" she gasped, spotting my eyebrows.

"I don't know." I grabbed my hat and stuffed it back on.

"What did you do to your eyebrow?" she demanded, still in obvious shock.

"Nothing, they're just gone."

"David, what's this about? Why would you do that?"

"I don't know. They were so ugly. I hated them. They just…I wanted to…" Oh my God, I am stupid, why did I do this in the first place?

"Jack."

"_What _did you say?"

Crap, did I say that out loud? "Nothing, I didn't say anything."

"What about Jack?"

"Nothing."

"David, I heard you. What did you say about Jack?"

"I just…"

"Did Jack tell you to do that? The bastard!" Sarah was turning very red in the face. Needless to say, it was a bit scary.

"Sarah, jack didn't tell me to."

"Then why did you say 'Jack'?"

"Because…I did it so he'd like me. So that I'd look better and he'd notice me."

"David, sorry, but you look really stupid."

I groaned. "Just leave me alone."

"Why do you care about Jack anyways? Are you really gay?"

She didn't really think I was gay?

"I mean, I only accused you of being gay because I was mad, I didn't mean it."

"Yeah, only Simon knows. I don't even know _how_ he knows."

Sarah looked at me funny for a few seconds. "You should tell Mom and Dad, you know."

I shrugged, what makes her think they'd accept it?

"And David? I love you no matter what they say. I promise."

—Swifty's PoV—

For the first time in years I walked through the front doors of my high school. The halls were nearly empty, making them look different, but I could still find my way.

I found the cafeteria and shut the doors softly behind me. The lunch ladies were putting out flats of food and wiping lunch trays. One of them looked up and spotted me.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" she asked suspiciously.

"What time is lunch?" I avoided her question.

"Lunch is at eleven thirty. Do you go here?"

"No."

"You have to check in with the office." She stacked the trays at the end of the row of bags of chips.

"Uh, I, uh, already did," I lied.

"Where's you visitor pass?" as asked, as if sensing that I was untruthful.

"They were out off them, but the office knows I'm here." This lie was growing weaker by the second but I crossed my fingers and hoped she would think nothing of it.

I checked my watch and was disappointed to learn that it was only quarter after eleven.

"Thanks for your help!" I called before exiting to the hall.

Schools have a certain feel to them. Everything is so orderly and neat. Everything is numbered and labelled. There are no papers on the ground, having been swept up between class changes.

I venture down the tech hall, remembering which are the computer classes. Through the doors I spot kids at work and I miss school. I wish I could afford to come here every day, but unfortunately I can't.

For the next fifteen minutes I wander the halls _without_ a visitor pass. When the lunch bell rings I am outside in a pleasant courtyard. I rush back in, to the cafeteria.

I stand at the edge of the room on my tiptoes, scoping the crowd for Boots. Someone bumps me, catching me off-balance and knocking me to the floor.

"Hey, sorry 'bout that." The boy bends to help me up. Almost instantly after grabbing my arm he releases it. "Aaron?" he gasps.

"Huh?" I catch a glimpse of his face, looking into the eyes of my half-brother for the first time in months. "Jack. Oh, hello."

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Preaching my homosexual ways so that every male in the school will fall madly in love with you." I say sarcastically. The damn bastard is still probably an out-of-control homophobe. He probably thinks I have the hots for him.

"Aaron, why are you _really_ here?" He brushes off my comment like it was nothing.

"I'm just looking for someone," I spot Boots across the way, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I see them."

"Listen, Aaron," he grabs my arm before I can get away. "I'm going through a hard time. I really need someone to talk to. Do you think we can sit down for a while?"

"Jack, what makes you think I want to talk to you? I can't tell you anything, why should you be able to tell me anything? It's not a one-way street." I forget all about Boots and run from the school.

There are too many memories incorporated with Jack and they all flood back when I see him. Painful memories, but buried beneath the layers I remember when we used to be friends. Before everything went wrong.

—Boots' PoV—

"Aaron! Aaron!" My head jerked around at the sound of Swifty's name. I caught a glimpse of him before losing sight of him in the lunch crowd. The kid who was calling his name was frozen to the spot, staring blankly after him.

"Uh, how do you know Swifty?" I ask the boy.

He blinked and said, "Who?"

"Swifty! Aaron! The kid you were _just_ talking to!"

"Oh. He's my brother."

This can't be right. Swifty lives alone over Horizontal because his father disowned him. How can he have a brother?

I was about to ask this when the kid interjected. "And who are you? How do you know Aaro---erm, Swifty?"

"I'm his boyfriend," the boy flinched as I said this," my name is Boots."

"I'm Jack. Swifty and I are only half-brothers. We don't have the same mother."

"I didn't know he had a brother," I admitted.

"Well, I didn't know Swifty had a boyfriend so I guess we're even." Why did Jack make it seem like we were competing where we weren't? Did he have an over-active competitive gene or something?

"Why doesn't he live with you?" I asked suspiciously. So far I didn't like Jack very much.

"My dad doesn't like the gay thing," said Jack shortly.

Across the cafeteria Spot called my name.

"I've got to go." I walked away uncomfortably, considering the way he had said 'the gay thing', like it was a parasite or a disease. Like it was a disability.

Jack was so far the one thing about Swifty I hated.

—Crutchy's PoV—

They're not really dead, but they are gone. Uncle Kloppman says he doesn't know where they've gotten to but that they never tried to contact him after they left me.

"I was supposed to be babysitting you for a day, they were going out to a concert downtown and they'd be back later. I felt bad for the, being forced into adulthood and having no time to be kids."

My parents were named Reggie Thornhill and Brenda Kloppman. They never got married, being only eighteen at the time of abandoning me. Uncle Kloppman said he wasn't even sure if they even liked each other very much.

"You were just the result of lust and alcohol," he said bluntly. "I'm sorry for being so harsh, but it's the truth."

I was only three weeks old, and was born premature and with a major birth defect. I cannot use my leg to this day due to lack of nutrition usually provided by mother's milk.

"Maybe they dies in a car crash, maybe they just split." Uncle Kloppman shrugged and drained his cup of coffee.

He did try to contact them through relatives and close friends, but it was as if they'd disappeared without a trace.

When I was five weeks old Uncle Kloppman applied to the state of New York to be my legal guardian.

"I never had kids, never marrying and all, but it seemed like a nice idea and I loved you like my own. Quite often I think about how different things would be without you."

Know Uncle Kloppman gave up a lot of things to make it work. He hasn't yet retired, even though he's only a few years shy of sixty-five. I never could get surgery for my leg because surgery for my leg because insurance wouldn't cover it and a new air of crutches every few years was mush more convenient.

"What if they mean to come home but they got in a crash or something?" I asked hopefully. Dead parents were less of a bruise to my ego than ones who deserted me.

"Could be the case," he shrugged. "I honestly have no idea."

I need to look deeper into this. I need to find out what really happened.

(Tuesday)

—Mush's PoV—

Life is hell. Why did I do that? What kind of idiot am I?

He won't return any of my phone calls.

"He doesn't want to talk to you," Swifty told me one time I got through. Blink's probably making the whole building gloomy because Swifty didn't sound too chipper.

I'm not _jealous_ of that stupid kid. Why would I be? Just look how easy he went down, that's nothing to idolize.

I'm very surprised that I haven't yet been called down to the office. I know that what I did is at least worth a suspension.

Blink didn't sit with me at lunch today like he usually does, thus forcing me to eat with Dutchy and Specs, lest I be stuck eating alone.

"He'll get over it," said Dutchy, matter-of-factly.

"I think it's kind of romantic." Specs grinned after admitting that he'd beat up Bumlets a little while ago.

"Why?" I asked.

"He was dating my ex-girlfriend," he informed me.

"Are you telling me that he's _straight_ and I just lost my boyfriend _and_ got a possible stain on my permanent record? Over nothing?"

"I guess, but don't get mad at me, you screwed up."

"Don't rub it in," I groaned and buried my face in my arms.

The worst part is he's eating with Bumlets and his friends. Can life get any worse?

Answer: yes, but not in terms of Blink and I.

—Racetrack's PoV—

A sharp whistling made me jump, bringing me back to reality. Itey sat beside Mountie grinning at me.

"What?" I asked, slightly peeved.

"Don't stare at Spot now, we have company." He pointed to Bumlets' new friend who had introduced himself as Kid Blink.

"I don't _stare_ at Spot."

"Yeah, gee Itey, he just has some completely drool-worthy thing on his face, thus resulting in Racetrack's staring," said Mountie sarcastically.

Bumlets doesn't say anything because he's not talking to me.

"I'm _not_ staring at him ad I'm _not _drooling." I exclaimed, becoming very frustrated and angry.

"Calm down," Bumlets spoke for the first time since lunch began, though he sounded extremely grumpy. "No one really cares about your freakish obsession for Spot. It's just something to talk about."

I took one look at his bruised (from Mush's previous beatings), smirking face and lunged at him.

At a nearby table dozens of girls screamed and in a matter of seconds Itey and Blink had pulled me off of him.

"Jesus! Why is everyone hitting me?" yelled Bumlets, wiping off his bloodied nose.

Coach Snyder directed Bumlets to the nurse and strode up to me. "You. Office. Now!"

Family life down the drain: Check!

School life down the drain: Check!

Friends down the drain: Check, no friggin duh.

—Skittery's PoV—

"Pigeon told me you don't want to see me anymore."

"What?"

"She said you blew me off the other day because you have too many things to worry about right now. It's—it's OK, if that's what you want."

"I don't want to break up with you," I told him stiffly.

"Then why are you walking away?" he asked. I realized I was still striding down the hall. I turned into a less busy corridor and stopped.

"Sorry, listen. I don't want to break up with you. I had other things to do."

"So you do have other things to worry about."

"Well, you can't be the only thing or person I ever see or worry about." I reminded him about my researching for Crutchy.

"Oh, that's good. Sorry about assuming before asking you and all. It was really stupid of me." Him saying this reminds me of how much I like him. It's really big of him to apologize.

"It's not your fault. I'm not really at a good place with Pigeon right now. I'm going to have to talk with her."

Snoddy looked slightly hesitant to continue. "Do you…do you want to come over to my place on Friday for dinner?"

"I'll be there," I said, without thinking twoce.

"Promise?"

"Snoddy, I promise."

==

"Pidge, I have to—"

"Skittery, I'm soo sorry! I was mad! Please forgive me! I didn't ruin things with you and Snoddy, did I?"

"No—"

"Good," she hugged me. "Because I never meant to do that. Please forgive me?"

"OK, I guess."

—General PoV—

Racetrack sat in the office with his head in his hands. If he closed his eyes all he heard was the whirr of computers and the soft mechanical clicks of the photocopier. It was like this, with his eyes closed, that he pretended nothing happened and he wasn't up for possible expulsion.

"Anthony Higgins, the principal will see you now." The secretary looked up with an expression of almost pity before directing him towards the correct door.

In his office—which Racetrack was very surprised at the small size of—Principal Joseph Pulitzer sat behind his desk, awaiting the student.

"Take a seat Mr Higgins and tell me what you did."

Racetrack collapsed into the seat and shrugged. "I punched my best friend in the nose."

"Young man," Pulitzer looked very stern, his mouth never altering from its grim line in the centre of his face. "It does not matter of what relation this boy is to you, you cannot be violent in my hallways."

Racetrack bit his tongue to keep from pointing out that it was in the cafeteria and attempted to look solemn. "Yes sir."

"Since this is your first act of violent behaviour shown in the school you will not suffer an expulsion. Such a case as this, following your testimony to Coach Snyder that Mr Messier provoked you, the punishment would usually be a month of detention and ten extra hours of community service. But—"

Racetrack inhaled deeply. There had to be a 'but'.

"When I look over your personal record I must take into consideration your history of vandalism, including one specific drawing in the boys washroom that reads 'Coach Snyder Does it for Free'. Because of your mockery of out educators and school system I am forced to issue you a five-day out of school suspension and ten extra hours of community service. "

Racetrack nodded, amazed that his ninth grade revenge on Coach Snyder for failing him could just have bought him suspension. Luckily his parents wouldn't even notice, and if they found out they'd forget about it in no time.

"Now, I suggest you make your way home. Your five-day suspension will officially begin tomorrow."

Racetrack disappeared from the office and wandered out the school doors and off the property.

Next to enter Pulitzer's office were two people who didn't look as if they really wanted to see each other.

"Sit down boys." Pulitzer gestured to the chairs. "Mr Meyers, Mr Hunter, I trust you know why you're here. No? Well, then I will tell you. A member of faculty has recently told me of your public displays of affection between classes. While I recognize that this is modern day America I must address school policy that no public affection be shown by students of any gender, race or social status. This is just a warning but next time I will issue detentions and after that maybe in-school suspensions."

"Why don't you crack down on the damn straight kids?" grumbled Mush.

Pulitzer—gracefully—ignored him and dismissed them to class.

Busy day, busy day.

A/n: OK, I think that's a good point to end this. It's almost 4000 words! That's my longest chapter for this story so far! I hope you enjoyed the extended version, this is probably what I would have poster while I'm away, if not more. Too mush stuff happened for me to comment on so why don't you just review and tell me your favourite parts. Yay! Reviews!


	78. It's No Problem

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:

**I'm baaaa-aack! Did you miss me? If your shoutout isn't here it's because I can't read them. I'm really, really sorry. Something's weird with the review page for this story on my computer…**

Erin Go Bragh- Bumlets seems like an aggravating guy, doesn't he? Like the kid of kid people just really want to hit in the face.

Coin- Hon, do you know the difference between fighting and having sex? It doesn't sound that way…

(Still Tuesday)

—Crutchy's PoV—

"How's the investigating going?" asking Skittery as we walked home today.

"Uncle Kloppman slipped up, he told me about them."

"Where are they?" Skittery queried thoughtfully.

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Are you still going to try and find them?"

"For all I know they could be dead. I don't know what to do next."

We just walked along silently. "I have good news though, my petition's almost together and I can start getting signatures tomorrow."

I had completely forgotten about his campaign. Just because it wads for me doesn't mean I was for it. I don't really want to be the reason behind an alteration to the school; everyone will know it was me and glare a lot or something.

"That's really…good Skitts. Thanks."

He beamed at my gratitude. "No problem. Anything for a friend."

"No, really. If you think it's putting too much pressure on you, y'know, to pull this together, I won't forget that you tried. That's what really matters." _Please don't let him carry through with this!_

"It's fine. I like helping out, it's really _no problem_," he insisted.

"You're sure you wouldn't rather be doing something else? What about Snoddy?" I took one final stab at getting through. His face grew stony before immediately flipping to excitement.

"I'm going to his house for dinner Friday. I'm going to meet his family."

"Are you excited?"

"You could say that."

A/n: Hello! Sorry it's so, so short compared to last chapter, but it had to be. Tomorrow's will be (hopefully) better. Are you glad I'm back? You'd better be (shakes fist threateningly). Review please!!!


	79. Watching You

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!

Shoutouts:

Strawberri Shake- you hate Crutchy? I don't like him, but I pity the poor guy. Born and gimpy and all…

Erin Go Bragh- a little obsessed here, aren't we? There may be some SpRace…maybe…Ok, OK, by the end of the fiction I promise you some.

Jacky Higgins- I love being loved. Which story is this? Anyways, you sound productive in it thus far. Congrats! (gives you a cookie)

Coin- sweetheart, you're confusing me too. Please stop. Thank you! (hug)

Almatari-of-Arda- VERY warm, it was 98 Fahrenheit on Sunday. And saw plenty of cute boys. we played after the U16 boys (they take their shirts off after they play) and we were next to an U15 baseball boys team from Puerto Rico. They couldn't speak English.

(Wednesday)

—Dutchy's PoV—

"We will be presenting Romeo and Juliet for the school this Friday. It will not be a major presentation, but like a practice. We will, however, be charging a two dollar admission. It will be like a 'buy-out' meaning that whoever buys a ticket will be excused from afternoon classes."

Scattered and hurried whispers exploded throughout the auditorium. Would we be good enough?

"Miss Larkson," Spring raised he hand. "I don't know if I can get my hair done like Juliet by Friday. I haven't even made an appointment yet!"

"_Miss_ Springfield, I don't really care how you do your hair. Just tie it in a ponytail for all I care. Just be sure you're there!"

Spring blanched, as if imagining how 'drab' she'd look with her hair only in a simple ponytail.

"We will do one rehearsal before I dismiss you for lunch. Can we please get through the entire thing at least once? Five minutes and you'd better be ready!"

Kid Blink and Mush were sitting on different sides of the auditorium. To keep themselves from jumping on each other and making out? I seriously doubted it, considering the way Blink was glaring ahead and the way Mush was staring at him longingly.

"What's going on?" I asked Blink as we got ready.

"We have to be ready in five minutes," he told me, still refusing to meet Mush's gaze.

"No, I mean, yeah, I know that, but what's going on with you and Mush?""

"Nothing."

"Are you still mad at him for hitting that Bumlets kid?"

Blink turned and glared at me. "How do you know that?" he demanded hotly.

"He told Specs and I the other day at lunch," I confessed. By this time Mush had trudged backstage and was probably getting ready. Blink stood to go.

"He only did it because he really loves you. Don't stay mad at him for too long, OK? You guys are really lucky to have each other."

"Just get ready for rehearsal, it doesn't matter right now." He stormed off.

But it _does_ matter. Nothing should matter more to them than anything in the world.

—Snoddy's PoV—

"Snoddy, hey!" smiling, Skittery appeared at my side and sat down next to me.

"Hi," I put down my can of Sprite and swivelled to face him. "What's up?"

"Have you heard about Romeo and Juliet?" he asked, still grinning widely.

"No, what about it?" I knew he was in the play, but I had no idea what he was talking about right now.

He gestured to a poster on the wall. "There's a buy-out for it on Friday. Are you coming?"

"_This_ Friday? That's when you're coming over for dinner!" Was he backing out? He had to come, how else would I tell them…

"It's during school, of course I'll still come. Don't freak out."

"Oh, I guess I'll come then. How do I get tickets?" I'd watch anything Skittery was in. Anything…

"I don't exactly know," he admitted. "I'll check with Miss Larkson and tell you, I have to get back soon but I'll call you after school, OK?"

"Sounds good, I'll see you Skittery."

"Bye." He kissed me on the cheek and headed for the door. Friday was so close by. I was going to watch Skittery perform, miss class, and tell my parents something that could change their lives forever. Or worse, mine.

—Jack's PoV—

"The sets are done Miss Larkson."

She walked over to them, examining my handiwork with scrupulous observation. She didn't miss a thing. She paused the longest at the balcony.

"They're beautiful Mr Sullivan," she breathed. I flinched as she said 'Mr Sullivan'.

"Please ma'am, call me 'Mr Kelly, if you wouldn't mind."

She gave me the strangest of looks but didn't say anything. "Tell the rest of the kids working on the sets that I appreciate it."

She strode off to tend to some other issues and I spotted David across the stage. Something tugs at the back of my mind and reminds me that he called me deep and said that I was waiting for something.

When I look at him I can see Sarah behind him. It's so obvious now that they're brother and sister. They look different, but behind that they're so familiar.

Standing in front of the overdone balcony scene I stare at him, feeling like this was the closest I was ever going to get to letting go. Sarah wouldn't talk to me. Maybe if I just watched David he'd understand how I felt.

Was he always missing his eyebrows?

A/n: I'm muchly happy with this chapter. Snoddy and Skittery still like each other, they're putting on the play for each other, and Jack is WATCHING David. Happy day, oh happy day! Review!


	80. Q&A

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Bobcat:Slashgoil- ah, nostalgic story of mine!  
  
Jacky Higgins- I haven't ever seen Master and Commander. My friends, however, say it's great.  
  
Almatari-of-Arda- yes they take off their shirts and they do have nice bodies. And tummies to rival Mush's.  
  
Coin- please, never use the word 'homie' again. It scares me. It's so 'gangster'.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- are you saying he's schizo?  
  
Plus, sorry for not updating yesterday. The computer wouldn't let me sign in. 

—Kid Blink's PoV—

"I really need to talk to you."

I stiffened. "No you don't. I have nothing to say to you." I turned to walk away.

"Then just listen! I don't give a damn if _you_ say anything, you're just going to stop _right there_ and listen to _me_!" he shouted. Good thing rehearsal ended early so not many people heard him.

"You want to talk to me? What about the whole time when I needed to talk to you? After we kissed? What about that? You wanted to 'forget everything'. What if I want to forget this?" I yelled back.

"I didn't forget about it after all, and you wouldn't let me. Blink, you started all this, how can you end it like this?"

"Mush, _you_ ended it."

"Don't you love me?" he whispered.

I didn't flinch. "I thought I did…I mean, I think I do, but how could you do that to Bumlets? What did he do? You've got to stop being so paranoid Mush."

He didn't say anything. He stood for a few seconds and thought before turning, defeated, and walking away.

"We'll talk later, OK Mush?" I called after him.

He just kept walking.

—Boots' PoV—

"How long have you known Swifty for?" asked Jack.

I shrugged. "A few weeks. I tutored him for a while."

"What do you mean 'a while'? you don't tutor him now?" This Q&A period was brought on by Jack's awareness that he knew nothing about, or at least pretty close to nothing, about his half-brother.

"I'm grounded, I _can't_ tutor him anymore."

"Why?" he paused. "Are you grounded, I mean?"

Awkward question, that. Why would he care anyways? "I'm grounded for being out all night without telling my parents. At Swifty's house."

"Oh," Jack looked embarrassed (as he should). "Sorry."

"You didn't know. You really should be talking to Swifty about this, you know. I don't know nearly as much about him as he does. Obviously."

"Swifty doesn't want to talk to me." Jack frowned.

"I'll ask him about it. He's a really nice guy."

Jack looked almost devastated now. "I know," he sighed. "He was one of the nicest people I'd ever met. I was such a part. I should never have told my dad. I'm such a prat. I hate him."

"Are you OK?" I asked, afraid that Jack had driven off the path of our conversation.

"I'll be fine. I don't even know why I did it," he admitted. "I hate my father so much, and having Swifty around made everything easier, we could talk about everything."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Well, obviously not _everything_. Oh God, I blew it big time. I'm _such_ a moron."

I let Jack continue the self-bashing because, well, frankly, he deserved it.

"Swifty's a nice guy, I'll talk to him about it," I repeated. Jack blinked and stared at me.

"Do you love Swifty?"

Why the hell would he ask that? It was so random. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you've slept with him you must know. Do you love him?"

I honestly don't know if I love Swifty. For sure I _like_ him, but that's not the same thing. "When did I say I slept with him?"

"You said you stayed overnight. I assume that, since you're dating, you probably slept together. Am I right?" Why would he assume that? He must have pretty low morals to _assume_ such a thing. It was true, of course, but that was a totally different thing.

"Oh. Well, I guess…"

"Do you even know?" asked Jack with an accusing tone in his voice.

I shook my head. Did Swifty love me?

Something told me he at least knew enough to be able to tell someone how he felt. So why don't I?

A/n: Poor confused Boots! Don't you just want to tell him that he does love Swifty? You know you do!!!


	81. Happy Birthday Marshall

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Sloane Miette- (almost faints) I thought you left!!! Yay! I missed you! As for the keeping Itey, I guess you can. But just for the next week, because I'm going on a cruise and I'm sure he'd be seasick. I like how this story ends, I've got it all planned out already...  
  
Strawberri Shake- pushing the boys in a closet works out all problems. And Snoddy/Skitts are adorable.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- do you ever talk to storybooks? If so, do they answer?  
  
Coin- My friend got super-mad when I made Blink mad at Mush. She wrote hate mail all over my notebook!

(Still Wednesday)

—David's PoV—

"Want another one Hon?" asked the bartender. I recognize him as being the same one who was here the night I brought Skittery and Boots.

"Please," I mumbled, watching as he filled the glass again. I poured some whisky into it and he pretended not to notice.

"I think I remember you," I slurred, raising my head so I could see him.

He was gorgeous. He was skinny, being easily one half my weight. He measured in at about five foot two, so that he was probably the same height as me when standing if I was sitting on this barstool. His eyes were a colour brown that could closest be described as sandy, being amazingly light, but not quite hazel. His hair was short, straight and blonde. One strand constantly fell into his eyes so that he'd have to push it out while he was talking. His lips were rounded, heart-shaped ones, forever moving, even when he was silent because his smile was always changing.

"Yeah, I think I remember you, Hon. You were here with Sweet Cheeks." He smiled so that his cheekbones were more defined and rosy.

"That's Boots," I smiled stupidly. "And my name's David. You're pretty." I giggled and took a full-out swig from my flask.

"Well thanks Hon, but that's probably the whisky talking. I'm sure a nice boy like yourself haws a boyfriend anyways."

I stopped giggling. "I don't have a _boyfriend_. Jack's too up in the clouds to notice my. Plus," I lowered my voice to a whisper, "I think he's straight."

"Well, that's too bad Hon. I'm sure he doesn't know what he's missing."

Wait a minute! Was the bartender flirting with me? Maybe it was just the infamous bartender consoling where a stranger talks to the barkeep about his troubles.

_"What's on your mind stranger?" the bartender would ask._

_The stranger/I would answer, "My girl's leavin' me, I lost my money to a band of travelin' gypsies, my horse just died and I'm wanted in five states."_

_"What states?" the bartender would ask, shining a glass with his rag._

_"Nervous, angr, impatient, disgusted and confused," the stranger/I would tell him. _

_"Well, stranger, things can only gat better from here."_

Then again, what if he wasn't?

"You're pretty," I said again, still meaning it.

"How old are you, Hon?" he ignored my flattery.

"Eighteen," I smiled. "E-I-G-H-T-E-E-N!"

"You're a sweetheart. My name's Marshall. I'm twenty tomorrow."

"Happy Birthday." I leaned forward and planted a sloppy kiss on him.

A tall girl walked by and slapped Marshall on the butt.

Marshall, what did I tell you about seducing customers so you would get a bigger tip?" she asked jokingly in a very strange voice.

"It was a birthday [resent Annie. No tip involved." He laughed a wiped his lips.

"Well, closing time's soon, but I'm sure _he_ has more for you." She winked and I blushed deeply.

"My name's David."

"Hello David, my name's Annie. Do you fancy our Marshall here?" I realized what was strange about her voice, she was British.

"David 'fancies' a boy named Jack. He's one of them," said Marshall pointedly."

"Jack who?" I asked, because for a moment there Marshall made me forget.

A/n: sorry for taking so long. I was away. I'll be away also next week, so I was thinking about doing what I did last time and posting a super-long chapter. Thanks, please review and tell me what you think of David and Marshall…


	82. Romance of Messy Hair

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Jacky Higgins- I couldn't keep David obsessed about Jack. It was too mean.  
  
Shadowsdancingdragon- do you mean Spitzer from CAMP? I love him! As for the story, it's almost done. I have maybe...three more chapters.  
  
Erin Go Bragh- I was going to write something about that, but I forgot. Let's just say he liked them that way.  
  
Sloane Miette- sorry, I was away in New York and was not able to get a computer in that time.

Strawberri Shake- I think David thinksa better with liquer in his system. It makes sense, doesn't it?

Coin- they just kissed, it wasn't sex. What are they teaching you?

—Racetrack's PoV—

My mother appeared at my bedroom door. "Anthony, aren't you getting ready for school?"

I glared at her. "No, I'm not going to school today." I'm _suspended_.

She looked confused for a minute before turning and leaving. Since my therapy began she hasn't questioned me about a single thing. It may sound liberating, but really, it's degrading. It seems like I'm not important enough to worry about. Maybe I'm not.

==

The phone rang. I sat up quickly, the sheet peeling off my face.

"Damn phone," I muttered, reaching it and pushing the 'talk' button. "Hullo?"

"Hi Race, it's Spot." My heart skipped a beat. "Can you give me a drive to school?"

"I'm suspended. I can't go to school."

"Oh, OK, thanks anyways."

"See you later," I paused and smiled, even though I knew he couldn't see me. "Spot."

==

"What are you doing here?"

Spot stood in my doorway at ten o'clock, right in the midst of first period. His hair was slicked back and looked nothing like when I'd first met him. For the first time I noticed he had two piercings on his left ear, seeing as his hair was finally pushed off of it. He was missing his usual grunge t-shirt and corduroy pants. Instead he had had donned a pair of black jeans and a navy-blue shirt reading 'Children of Bodom; Follow the Reaper'.

He stepped in the door. One thing that hadn't changed, I realized giddily, was his personality. He was still straightforward and constantly observing.

"I came to see how you are." He jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

I shut the door and fixed him with a questioning gaze. "Aren't you missing school? And what happened to you?"

He nodded and slipped off his newly acquired Harley Davidson boots. "Yeah, but, unlike you, I haven't missed much school yet this year."

"And how do you explain the clothes?"

"You noticed?" He blushed. "I hoped you would."

He said the latter as though it was the answer to my question. We walked through the foyer to the kitchen.

I got him a Coke and was sat in silence for a while. He smiled, watching me look him over. It was strange, but at least those eyes were still the same.

"Spot, I—" love you "liked it better the other way."

"Really?" he looked shocked. "But this is your thing, I thought you'd like it."

"Yeah, but your hair…I like it messy." I reached over to mess it up. I leaned forward, hand outstretched, put my other hand down on his…leg? Slowly his hand crept over mine, keeping it pressed against his thigh. I was standing up now. I could hear him breathing heavily…or maybe that was me. His head was tilting up slowly, inching closer. I knew what was coming, but I kept my eyes open even after he'd closed his.

His mouth tasted like cola and chocolate. The roof was smooth and arching. A his lips moved over mine I relaxed and closed my eyes, imagining his face.

==

"You'll call me?" I called as he walked away.

He nodded and smiled. "See you soon Racetrack."

"Thanks Spot."

He grinned. "My pleasure."

[End Spot]

A/n: ah yes, I must now introduce a new…feature. Whenever it says 'End So-and-So' it means that is the ending of that person's 'story'. You won't hear from them much after that. If you do it doesn't affect the outcome of the story. Some of them won't have 'End's, such as Snitch and Itey.


	83. City Hall

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!

Shoutouts:

Jacky Higgins- what do you mean 'might'? POST IT!! I'LL READ IT!! Please? Thank you!

Coin- (basks in the infinite love of Coin) thanks. It was just a kiss though, really.

Shadowsdancingdragon- I love CAMP! No, this isn't posted anywhere else, I do have a link for it in my webpage, which is in my bio but it will bring you back to fanfiction. If you suggest anywhere I could post it I might try there. And yes, there is more Race. Think about it, he still has another issue to sort out. As for the quote-els: 'I watched my junior prom from the bushes'…or something. I haven't watched CAMP in so long…sniffle

Erin Go Bragh- there's a reason I didn't put anything there. You have to use your imagination. Or, to put it another way, I don't really know either. They…uh….had an uber-make out fest. I hope that satisfies you.

Strawberri Shake- 'Berri do you have a cola and chocolate fetish? That's….kinky…hmm…yuck. Cola.

—Swifty's PoV—

I anticipate lunchtimes now. That's when Boots calls, it's the best part of the day. He always calls between 11:25 and 11:30.

"Hi Swifty, it's me."

"Hi, how was class?" I think I ask him this every day. He always answers the same way…

"It was fine. Listen, I've got to talk to you about Jack."

If it weren't him I would have hung up on him. But it was Boots so I didn't.

He continued. "He really wants to talk to you. He says he's sorry. Swifty, I don't know his very well," damn right you don't, "—but he seems sincere. Please call him, Swifty. It'd mean a lot to him."

"I don't—"

"Swifty, please. Here's his cell phone number, just call him, OK?"

I jotted down the number. "Fine. Whatever. Bye."

He hung up and I stared at Jack's cell phone number.

"_You've reached the phone of Jack _Kelly_. I'm not available, so please leave a message after the tone. Beep!_"

"Hi Jack. It's Aaron. Call me back if you want to talk. And say 'hello' to Mom for me, please?"

[End Swifty. End Boots]

—Crutchy's PoV—

"Crutchy! I got enough signatures!" Skittery ran down the hall towards me, waving his petition in the air.

I smiled and commented encouragingly. "Great. Thanks a lot Skittery—"

"And I just talked to Mr Pulitzer. He says we'll begin construction on the ramp. No argument or anything!"

"Yeah, I'm really happy. Skittery, it was really great of you to do this."

He beamed.

"Can you help me out after school?"

"Sure, no problem. What for?"

"I'm going to City Hall…"

==

"Check for Reggie and Brenda Thornhill."

I typed in their names to City Hall's mainframe. Beside me Skittery did the same but clicked 'related articles' next to the results.

"I think I found something." He squinted at the screen and read the article out loud.

"Two citizens of Queens, New York were victims of an early morning hit-and-run. They have been identified as eighteen year-olds, Reginald Thornhill and Brenda Thornhill. Thus far their families remain unknown, as does the whereabouts of their young son, Eric Thornhill.

"The offender of their deaths is in custody at Upper-Manhattan's police department. Any persons with information of Reginald and Brenda Thornhill, the location of their families, or witnesses to their deaths should call 1-800-COPPER."

Deftly I leaned over and pushed 'print'.

"Let's go," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes.

Skittery nodded and stood up. I folded the article carefully, placed it in my pocket, and walked through the front door.

[End Crutchy]

—Kid Blink's PoV—

Mush is so…I don't know. The only way I can describe him is breathtaking, but that doesn't even seem like the right word. Still, it is the word that describes how I feel when I see him: like someone's hit me in the stomach, it's like I'm getting punched every time he shoots me that amazing smile.

And yet, I'm mad at him. He calls and I tell him to stop. How can I resist his voice over the phone? I think I'm going to die from pure longing.

Tomorrow is the play. How can I be sure I won't run across the stage and kiss him when he walks on? How can I be sure that I can resist the awesome temptation that is Scott Meyers? Answer: I can't.

_Face your demons_ read a fortune cookie I got once. I don't think I ever have, except to kiss Mush in the first place. In the first place. That's right, I started it all, so am I really going to be the one to end it? Do I even want to? No, I don't.

Yet, surprisingly, he's the one calling every five minutes to apologize.

_Ring, ring, ring!_

"Blink, it's Mush. I'm really sorry about what I did. Bumlets…I don't know what I was thinking. Please, just for—"

"Mush. Just get some sleep."

"Um…OK. Goodnight Blink. I really miss you."

"Good night."

"I…"

I lowered the receiver.

"love you."

I caught my breath in my throat. Did he really just say…? I held the receiver to my ear once again. "I love you too Mush. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow. We can talk."

_Click_

[End Mush]

A/n: a lot of PoVs in that one. I think the next chapter will be the last. However, there will be a summary following that I will post. Just review this one for now though. Tell me if you like the endings so far.


	84. Who Needs Juliet?

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!

Shoutouts:

Jacky Higgins- that review was…deep. And hurry and post ALL your fiction. Plus, I wish my town had a hat shop!

Coin- I don't think my town even _has_ a city hall.

Strawberri Shake- (imagines you chasing and lassoing a boy) that's…great! I, personally, hate colas, they give me headaches. And Crutchy's story is over. He'll just live with a sense of security.

Erin Go Bragh- of course they're back together! I couldn't break up the boys!

—Bumlets' PoV—

I agree, at times I am an idiot. For example, it's entirely my fault that Racetrack is suspended. The only time he's ever been mad at me before is when Snitch and I got in a fight. Snitch is a very influential person in Racetrack's life, so how does he relate to Spot? What connection does Race feel to Spot?

"Racetrack, I—"

"I'm sorry Bumlets."

What?

"I really regret punching you in the face like I did. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I guess. Race, do you—"

"My house is so boring."

He sounded like he was in a good mood despite this and I told him so.

"I am." He laughed. "Spot came over today all rockered out. He looked better before, though."

I imagined Spot with his hair spiked up, wearing my clothes. I struggled not to laugh.

"I'm sure he did."

==

"It's time for dinner," I told him when my mom called me.

"OK, I guess I'll see you this weekend."

"Yeah. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Bye."

_Click_

"I'm sorry Race," I whispered into the dead phone before hanging up as well.

[End Bumlets]

(Friday)

—Skittery's PoV—

Backstage is very dark and hectic. If they turned the lights up everyone would be able to find their things and there would be less stumbling around. Unfortunately the buy-out kids were already filing in and a bright backstage wouldn't be as 'aesthetically pleasing'.

"Showtime! Places everyone!"

I saw Blink slip through the curtains to take his place onstage. Mush stood by the side, waiting for his cue. They smiled and wished each other good luck.

From the immediate stage Miss Larkson introduced us. "Thank you all for coming out to support the school production of Romeo and Juliet…"

==

At four o'clock we made our bows, extra loud applause was awarded to Dutchy and Spring, which wasn't surprising, considering they were the stars. Specs smiled from the front row at Dutchy. A few seats from his Snoddy watched me.

"Good show," Dutchy commented as we exited the stage.

"You were awesome," I told him. He had done really well, not messing up a single line.

Blink walked over and shook Dutchy's hand. He was slowly being surrounded by cast members. Spring stood alone in the corner.

"How're things with you and Mush?" I asked Blink as we walked away.

He smiled weakly. "Everything's back on track."

Behind him Snoddy stood in the doorway.

"I've got to go," I told Blink, making my way towards Snoddy.

"Ready to go?" he asked, holding out my coat for me.

—David's PoV—

Marshall and I walked hand-in-hand down New York harbour. It was a buy-out day at school so it made next to no difference that I was skipping school.

Even now I knew I looked years older than Marshall even though he was twenty officially as of yesterday. In this relationship I was the man and that's the way I liked it. I liked feeling that I had control for once. I liked the feeling of Marshall next to me.

We drew in to sneak a kiss and I almost died on the spot. Fighting his way thorough the groups of tourists was Mr Jack Kelly himself.

"David!" he shouted, remembering my name for once.

Marshall and I turned to face Jack. "Who's that?" whispered Marshall under his breath.

"Jack," I muttered back. Enough said, no more questions were asked.

"Yeah?" I asked when Jack got closer.

"You're just like Sarah!" he blurted. "I need you!"

Despite my current feelings toward him my heart skipped. Marshall tightened his grip on my hand and I was jolted back to reality.

"This is Marshall."

Jack, rudely, ignored this. "I need to talk to you about Sarah! Does she still want me?"

Why did I ever like Jack in the first place? He's so…

"She doesn't know who you are. Just leave her alone and get on with your life." I pulled Marshall with me as I walked away.

I remember that night they got caught. The night that changed our lives forever. The night I brought him his clothes and he walked away from me in the dead of night in on that damp street. Except this time, I'm the one walking away as he's swallowed, forgotten, but the crowds.

[End David. End Jack.]

—Racetrack's PoV—

Dr Stevens has toned down on the whole nickname thing since that day. I still stand by the fact that she works and follows my father's orders. She's just a pawn in his intricate plan of ruining my life.

We sit in her office, such has become routine.

"Anthony, what has life been like with your family since your brother and father have been home regularly?" she asked.

I noticed that, for the first time, she didn't have her notebook or a multitude of files about me.

"It's been hell," I admitted. "I got suspended the other day and I'm not saying it's totally their fault, but at the end of the day none of it would have happened if they stayed wherever they were in the first place."

Dr Stevens smiled sadly and gave me a look that surprisingly read that she felt for me. "I think that's enough for today. I'll call your parents in."

I stood to leave.

"Oh, no. You stay here for this."

==

"I think I've figured out the best treatment for your son."

"About time," my father muttered. I'm sure he would have continued about how much this was costing him, had my mother not shot him a warning look.

"I've decided that it would be wise for the family to attend therapy. Together. All of you."

My father's eyes bugged out amazed at such a daring suggestion that he attend therapy.

"Thank you very much doctor. Let's get home now," my mother whispered.

When we got home, while we were standing in the foyer, my mother hugged me for the first time in years.

"Everything will be OK. It'll all work out. We've just got to try harder," she told me. She was crying as she held me and I let her.

We stood like that for a long time.

[End Racetrack]

—Snoddy's PoV—

The elevator ride up to my apartment seemed to take hours. Skittery and I stood stiffly beside each other.

A cold sweat grew on my forehead. I swallowed nervously.

"It's OK Snoddy. If your family's as you say they are they'll have no problem with us."

The hallway grew as we walked towards it, the door running away too fast for us to catch it. Then, suddenly, we were right outside.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded and pushed the door open.

==

"It's so nice to meet you!"

My mother looked at me and grinned in approval of Skittery.

Skittery smiled uncomfortably and shot me a sideways look, finding my hand under the table.

"Mom? Dad? I have something to tell you. " I swallowed and could feel the tempo of my heart picking up.

Skittery squeezed my hand tighter and I continued, "I'm gay."

[End Snoddy. End Skittery.]

—Kid Blink's PoV—

The buy-out was a success. We filled the whole gym with kids who wanted out of class. Not that we cared about the reason: an audience is an audience.

Sitting front and centre were my parents. I grew jittery at the sight of them. I hadn't spoken to them since I ran away from Mush's house weeks ago. Now here they were, watching me.

Mush failed to meet my eye when he noticed them.

So, he'd set it up, eh? I hated and loved him for it at the same time.

==

"Blink, see you Monday?"

"Yeah, see you later Rain."

"Nathaniel? Honey, can we talk to you?" My mother had appeared at me side, looking meek and feeble.

"Sure." My heart beat faster, growing more nervous about the news she could possible be bringing.

"You were amazing. Imagine, my little boy on stage! I'm so proud of you!"

Just cut to the point, would you?

"And I—I want you to move back in. please come home Nathaniel! We miss you so much!"

Of course! "I missed you too Mom. I missed you a lot."

She kissed me on the forehead and my whole family walked out of the school and drove home.

Things were back on track. Finally.

[End Kid Blink]

—Dutchy's PoV—

"Awesome show!" Everyone gathered around me, shaking my hand and pressing flowers in.

I thanked and congratulated so many people I thought it would never end.

Eventually the crowd cleared and Specs was standing in the open, waiting for me.

"Great show," he smiled and held out my jacket for me, "Wanna get outta here?"

"Sure," I was relieved at the suggestion. I wanted to go eat something. Badly.

He put his arm around my shoulders and we walked off the stage.

"I'm tired of playing Romeo," I admitted. "I've been playing the part for weeks and I'm exhausted of him. I just want to go back to me now."

Specs smiled. "You've always been you. I've always known and loved you as Dutchy. Not as Romeo."

And then he kissed me.

Goodbye Juliet. I don't need you, I found my own Romeo. I'll take Romeo and Romeo any day. It's revised, but it's the way I like it.

[End Specs. End Dutchy}

[End]

[Summary Still to Come]

A/n: That's ALMOST the ending. I hope you all like it. Tell me what you thought, if you're mad for a specific reason, etc. Also tell me if there's a certain character that you want to know what happened to. I'll try to update again in a week because I'm in the Mediterranean for a while. Cheers and Bon Voyage to me! Hope you all have summer adventures while I'm gone!


	85. Summary

Disclaimer—I don't own Newsies, nor any other Media references I may make. I am not profiting at all from this story.  
  
A/n—at the beginning of each chapter it says what day of the week it is. If it says 'Still ' that means the day of the week is the same as the day before it. (duh?) If it doesn't say 'Still' before it that means it is a new day. Please R&R!  
  
Shoutouts:  
  
Coin- (checks) yep! I covered your topics! Yay!  
  
Strawberri Shake- I have no judgement of you. My friends are obsessed with bondage. I'm obsessed with Newsies and Peter Pan! You're in Peter Pan? I love it! Are you Wendy? I hate her. As for Jack, I've hated him since I saw Christian Bale in Shaft. He had the New York accent and everything, it was hard to distinguish the two. Hope things get better with your director or whoever.  
  
Shadowsdancingdragon- OK, I updated again, but this is really the last time. I haven't got anything more to write about on this story.  
  
Sloane Miette- I'm changing opinions worldwide! Stop hating the Davey everyone! Yay! (not that I ever liked him that much, but I like him more than Jack. Doity Rotten Scabbah!)  
  
Erin Go Bragh- his family said...read and find out! Muah ha ha!  
  
Summary  
  
—General PoV—  
  
Something about Mondays is depressing, but from the looks of the school hallways no one knew it was a Monday, they all thought it was a Wednesday or maybe even a Friday.  
  
Seating arrangements have changed slightly around the cafeteria, chairs stuffed into different places, leaving others completely empty. If this were to be a photograph taken in black and white it would be confusing as to the reason of the sittings, but in colour it made so much more sense. The mint green tabletops were strewn with plates of untouched foods and held hands.  
  
Pigeon sat next to Skittery, wide eyed as he told his story of going to Snoddy's for dinner. Snoddy smiled slightly, remembering the scene, recalling his mother's face, just before she brought her hand to her mouth and exclaimed: "Oh honey!" She kissed him on the forehead and assured him that she was still just as proud of him and didn't love him any less. Next she'd hugged Skittery.  
  
Spot rested his head on Racetrack's shoulder, eyes shut and savouring the sounds of the room. Absently, Racetrack stroked Spot's hair, feeling its silkiness and remembering its touch on his skin. Sure, he wasn't to be at school, but they had yet to catch him, leaving him sitting serene, pondering his brother's reaction to the need for him to go to therapy. And, of course, Spot. He never stopped thinking about Spot.  
  
Missing from his seat beside Spot was Boots. He sat beside Swifty and Jack, eating his lunch and holding Swifty's hand. He listened with quiet respect as the brothers talked. Though he didn't say anything he knew he was being included. This was the first time Swifty had talked the Jack in a long time and Boots got the privilege of sitting in on it.  
  
"Blink's moving out," Swifty had told him earlier that day. "I was thinking, if you'd like, would you move in with me?"  
  
The answer was immediate and unwavering. Of course he would. Boots had no doubt in his mind that he loved Swifty.  
  
Dutchy was still being praised on his performance from Friday, his table filled with fellow cast members, except for one person who wasn't in the play, who sat, holding Dutchy's hand in his. Their fingers laced together delicately, but no one said anything about it upon spotting them resting on the tabletop, they just floated in the sweet accomplishment of the play. Specs floated in the sweet accomplishment of Dutchy.  
  
Beside them Mush and Blink sat, not holding hands, not smiling lovingly at each other, just enjoying the other boy. When all attention was focused on Dutchy, Mush would lean in and kiss Blink softly on the cheek, an occurrence that would make Blink blush deeply and giggle slightly. Still fresh in Blink's mind was the feeling of arriving home and smelling his family's smell. Like cinnamon and cloves. Homey and welcoming. His parents hugged him and the next morning his little brother and sister woke him up by jumping on his bed, just like before, in all the same sincerity and lovingness that there ever was.  
  
Crutchy laughed and joked as usual with everyone, acting normal so that no one would have figured he'd undergone a dramatic change in his life. Folded in the depths of his pocket was a print-off of a newspaper article. In his pocket was his lifeline to the truth.  
  
And so we pan out of the school, passing through the halls, watching kids drink out of the water fountains and collect their books from where they dropped them.  
  
Stuck on the door of a girl's locker, on a bright yellow sticky-note, was David's scrawl. _Sarah, out to lunch with Marshall. Back in time for next period. XX  
_  
Somewhere in the vastness of Ontario, Buttons is clicking her pen and closing her notebook. It's amazing how rarely we notice the delights of simplicity. Such as wallet photographs, red baseball caps, hallways, the colour green, hair gel and Romeo and Juliet.  
  
**End**  
  
I hope you liked it, I think I covered everyone. Review!!! 


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